Sensible advice, to be sure. Rachel smiled
up at him. ‘Of
course I do.’
He
returned her smile but there was something beneath it, she could
tell. A sense of strain? Did he really regret his harsh words to
her or was this apology brought about by the uncomfortable
understanding that he had breached the bounds of etiquette by his
attack on her? She did not believe that was the case – he had
proved himself increasingly willing to talk to her, and even,
astonishingly, to defend her – but there was something there, she
was certain of it.
‘
I would like to say that it will pass,’ he said, after they
had glided through several more smooth revolutions. ‘That Society
will forgive and forget. But I’m afraid that will not be the case.
What are you going to do?’
‘
Do?’ Rachel was puzzled by the question. ‘Why, what should I
do?’
‘With the
rest of your life.’
‘Oh.’ The
rest of her life. Yes, indeed. ‘Spend it with my family. George and
James are married and both have children. Charlotte will start her
new life with Adam and I daresay they will have their own brood. I
intend to become everyone’s favorite aunt.’ She kept her tone
deliberately light. ‘Eventually even dearest Elizabeth will plight
her troth with some fortunate fellow, if she can be persuaded that
boys are not merely nuisances in breeches and I will have even more
opportunities to be of use.’
‘Be of
use,’ he repeated, his tone curiously flat.
‘Indeed.
I am anticipating a very enjoyable time ahead.’
‘
Are you?’ Worsley seemed genuinely bemused. ‘In what
way?’
‘
I like children,’ she explained. ‘It will be no hardship to
dote over whatever nieces and nephews come along, I can assure
you.’
‘I see.’ He did not look convinced and Rachel felt a small
spurt of annoyance at what had to be deliberate obtuseness. What in
the world did he
think
she would do? What did any shamed woman do but retreat from
the world and do her very best not to draw further attention to
herself? A man could ruin a woman with impunity and still appear at
his club the day after the scandal broke without fear of censure.
He was probably slyly congratulated by his associates, Rachel
reflected bitterly, on his good fortune at bagging whatever deluded
creature he had seduced. Although it had to be admitted that Dorian
Salinger had not returned to a life of swaggering braggadocio but
that had been because Mr. Salinger needed to return to Ireland for
reasons other than his moral turpitude. Or rather, reasons brought
on by those faulty morals. Or so she had heard.
‘
It isn’t as if I have many choices,’ she said quietly, as
the last strains of the waltz came to an end. ‘I must be realistic
about my future.’
For a long moment he did not move, nor did he release her
from their dancing embrace. He merely looked at her, as if seeking
something in her expression. The moment went on for so long that
Rachel became uncomfortably aware that they were the subject of
considerable interest and she stepped away from him. Worsley seemed
to come back to himself with a start and she saw a faint
flush
color
his cheeks. He gave her a peculiarly twisted smile.
‘And now
I am sorry all over again. I seem to have completely lost my
wits.’
‘
Why?’ She knew she should not ask – it was not polite to
question a gentleman in such a way. But really, the earl was
behaving quite oddly.
He shook his head and, taking her arm, they began to walk
back to the edge of the dance floor. ‘Do you know, I am not
sure?
I will
let you know as soon as I understand it myself.’
It was a
bewildering answer and she glanced up at him quizzically. ‘My lord,
you are not making a great deal of sense.’
‘I’m not,
am I? Never mind. May I request you save another dance for
me?’
Rachel was genuinely surprised.
One dance repaid his debt as a guest
of her family. Two seemed excessive. ‘It is hardly necessary.’ The
eyebrow was raised again. Really, he had obviously worked at
perfecting the movement and she suddenly felt gauche. This time she
was the one who blushed. ‘What I meant was, you have already been
very generous. I am sure that my family will all be delighted with
your -’
‘I am not
dancing with your family,’ he pointed out softly. ‘I am dancing
with you.’
There really
was no answer to that.
He deposited her with Charlotte who was standing with
several local girls who were more or less of an age. Felicity
Brougham and
Helena Longley, sister to the odious Mr. Longley who had
suggested a tryst in the woods. Both girls looked as if they did
not quite know what to say but Charlotte certainly did.
‘
You seem to be captivating Worsley, my dear,’ she observed, a
small dimple appearing.
‘It was
just a dance, my love. The banns have not been read.’ Rachel smiled
at the two girls. ‘Felicity, Helena, how lovely to see you both. It
has been an age but I have to say, you have both turned out
remarkably well.’
It was
very difficult to snub somebody who was the sister of their one
time friend, even more so when she had just given them a
compliment. Both Felicity and Helena took the easy road and smiled
in unison.
‘
Miss Sheridan, it is lovely to see you again.’
This from
Helena who had spent a good deal of time worshipping Rachel from
afar and had considered the beautiful young debutante the apex of
all that was wonderful when her brother had been courting her.
Rachel had been vaguely aware of her admiration, although she never
really thought about it, the girl being several years younger than
she was.
‘That’s a
marvelous dress,’ Felicity added, eyeing Rachel’s gown with a
certain amount of envy. She had more than a touch of the redhead
about her, skin lightly freckled in a manner that was sure to
distress her mother. No doubt quantities of ass milk were applied
to the skin on a nightly basis, along with any other unguent Mrs.
Longley could discover in an effort to rid herself of what many
thought of as an affliction. Happily, Felicity’s hair was in no way
carroty, but instead a pleasant reddish-brown. ‘I do so like that
color.’
‘You
could not wear it,’ Helena said with all the dispassionate honesty
of an old friend. ‘It would not suit you in the least.’
‘I know I cannot wear it,’ Fel
icity returned, a little irritably. ‘I was
merely commenting on it.’
They
spoke with the camaraderie of two people who had grown up together
and were entirely comfortable in each other’s company and Rachel
felt a pang of regret. If it were not for her own mistakes,
Charlotte would have continued her friendship with these girls,
would have counted them close confidants, discussing romance and
clothing and all the other foolish things girls discussed at such
an age. The future and all its delicious, attendant mystery. She
glanced at Charlotte who gave her a mischievous look in return and
an ever-so-subtle wink. Some of the unwelcome pressure within her
eased. No matter that her sister had not been surrounded by girls
such as this; her future was glorious and Rachel knew Charlotte had
no regrets, even if her sister did.
After the initial discomfort had passed, Felicity and
Helena carried on much as Rachel remembered they always had, with
good-natured barbs at each other and a great deal of giggling. They
accepted offers to dance, allowing Charlotte to tuck her hand into
her sister’s elbow
as she maneuvered them to a quieter part of the
room.
‘
What on earth was Worsley saying to you?’ she demanded, as
soon as they were away from prying ears.
‘
Why do you ask?’ Rachel inquired cautiously.
‘Well it
was particularly noted that you were both very intent on whatever
conversation that you were engaged in. And then, when the music
stopped, he did not remove his hands. It was quite
remarkable.’
‘He was
thinking of something, I believe. It preoccupied him for a moment.’
It was the best she could come up with. She had no idea what the
earl had been thinking at that moment, could not hazard a guess as
to his state of mind. All she really knew was that it had made her
feel an odd mixture of uneasy anticipation. There had been
something in his eyes…
‘
Well everybody is talking about it,’ Charlotte observed with
considerable satisfaction.
‘They have no need to do anything of the kind.’ The last
thing Rachel wanted was to be the object of
more
gossip.
‘
And yet they must.’ Charlotte squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘Do
not worry. They will all go home in several hours and we shall be
left to our glorious solitude. By any standards, this particular
dance must be counted a great success. We have entertained our
neighbors for the first time in years and they have been given the
fodder with which to gossip for the next six months or
more.’
Rachel
laughed, knowing perfectly well that it was true. The Sheridans had
bestowed a gift upon their sullen social group. She only hoped that
their neighbors appreciated the gesture. ‘I daresay it will be
longer than that.’
Charlotte’s
expression grew serious. ‘Is it proving to be very difficult for
you? You did not seem to be short of dance partners but I noticed
that you did not look as if you were enjoying yourself
particularly.’
‘
You have seen them dance,’ Rachel temporized. ‘Can you blame
me?’
‘
If they are behaving badly -’
‘Papa and
George and, yes, even James will have them thrown from the
premises, quite spoiling the tone of the evening, I am sure.
Dearest Charlotte, I knew that tonight was going to be difficult. I
will not lie to you; it has been, a little. But at the same time it
has been better than I anticipated. In fact, I actually think it
has done me good.’
Charlotte
looked doubtful. ‘Really?’
‘Oh yes. It has helped to e
xorcise some of my uncertainty. I will
feel a good deal more confident next time I venture into Society.’
If there was a next time.
Charlotte seemed to relax a little, revealing her own
turmoil about her sister’s plight. ‘I am glad. And there will be a
next time, Rachel. You will come to stay with Adam and
me and we will
entertain and you will not shut yourself away like a…a…’
‘
A princess in a tower?’ Rachel suggested helpfully.
Charlotte’s lips twitched. ‘Fallowfield does not have a
tower but yes, that will do very well. You are going to have some
semblance of a life, my dear. You were not born to be a hermit.
There is a great deal of pleasure to be had and I will not have you
miss out.’
‘But can I not at least wear a
veil?’ Rachel pleaded. ‘I have always
thought that women who wore veils were so
interesting
.’
It was
too much for Charlotte and, just as Rachel had wished, her sister
threw back her head and uttered a peal of laughter. Humor had
always been her best defense and Rachel used it regularly, both for
herself and for her loved ones.
Perhaps the
future that Charlotte envisioned for her might happen. Anything was
possible, after all. But Rachel was not pinning her hopes on such a
future. Experience would teach her sister better than anything that
some things were not possible.
The reinventing
of Rachel Sheridan into a respectable woman was nothing more than a
dream.
Chapter
Eight
Nash
stepped out onto the snow covered terrace, slipping through a side
door so as not to draw attention to himself. He did not want
company. He especially did not want the company of a minx like
Violet Thursby who seemed keen to dog his footsteps the better to
impress upon him how very suitable she was for whatever position he
might think to place her in; wife or lover. Violet was both
unsubtle enough and inexperienced enough to suggest she might be
able to fulfill either.
Nash was not in the least bit
interested. How could he be when he was
still dealing with the revelation that he was still
uncompromisingly in love with Rachel Sheridan? That the revelation
had taken place in the middle of a dance floor had been both
inconvenient and disconcerting but he supposed such revelations did
not come to suit the individual. In fact, they
should
come as bolts from the blue; he
reflected grimly, the better to herald the profound nature of the
revelation. He supposed that the knowledge had been edging upwards
from the murky depths of his being since he had first set eyes on
her after arriving at Thorncroft, only waiting for the opportunity
to astonish him.
Yesterday
morning he would have said astonish and dismay. Now, he was not so
sure.
Somehow, gazing into Rachel’s midnight blue
eyes
, the
rightness of holding her in his arms was so obvious that there was
no room for dismay. It was as if the intervening years had been
stripped away and he was once again the callow young fool who had
so willingly given his heart to a golden girl. Despite the fact
that he thought he had retrieved it some time ago, it was achingly
apparent he had been wrong.