You know you
are. It is entirely possible you already have…
The thought sent a
shiver of alarm through her but she crushed it.
She would not think of the future today. Time enough for that when
he was gone. In the next few days she knew she would collect
further conversations with him, additional memories to store up and
reflect back on in the long weeks to come. She knew she would
examine each and every one as the long days went by. Even while her
hands had been busy, twitching fabric, tidying stray curls,
checking preparations for the small, celebratory meal that would be
served when they returned from the church, Rachel alternately
thought of Worsley or did her level best to
stop
thinking of Worsley. Today, at least,
she would no longer attempt to rein in her willful thoughts. Today,
she would just let her foolish mind wander. Tomorrow would be time
enough to battle her inner self.
Rachel
watched with pleasure as vows were exchanged, along with
loving looks and a lingering kiss that made Charlotte’s family, for
the most part, smile. Liza uttered an audible snort of disgust but
she was not allowed to utter any inappropriate sentiments, standing
as she was beside her vigilant mother. Charity looked scandalized
at such a display of affection and gave her own snort, although she
was not so unschooled in the social niceties to say anything. She
would undoubtedly do so later to poor James, but that, Rachel
reflected wryly, was her brother’s burden to bear. They returned to
the house in high spirits, bringing Mr. Priddle with them to share
in the wedding feast. The vicar, for once in a way, seemed more
than happy to bask in the Sheridans’ happiness and it was a merry
party that gathered around the table.
To her mingled
dismay and delight, Worsley took the chair beside her at the table.
He gave her a sideways smile. ‘Well that went well, I think.’
She arched an
eyebrow. ‘Did you think it would not?’
‘One
never knows. I thought it possible that Miss Liza would set loose a
flock of geese that she had secreted in the nave to get them out of
the cold or Charity might feel compelled to give a speech on the
duties and obligations of a married woman. I fear we are not quite
safe from such an eventuality yet. She is reserving her improving
talk for an opportune moment, the better to educate us
all.’
This was so absurd – and yet so possible – that Rachel gave
a gurgle of laughter. ‘Mama will silence her if she attempts
anything of the kind.’ She looked down the table at her
sister-in-law, noting the slight pinch to her mouth and wondering
at it. Even in the midst of such a happy occasion, Charity was not
happy. Perhaps, Rachel thought with a sudden stab of sympathy, she
could not
be
happy, did not know how. How wretched would it be to go
through life, never being able to enjoy it? She had an unexpected
flash of realization that was as shocking as it was suddenly,
dazzlingly obvious.
Why, I am far more fortunate than Charity
for all the world
receives her! She may be able to move about Society with the
impunity of the morally virtuous, always holding herself vigilant
in case she somehow transgresses. Poor Charity fears life and all
of its traps and downfalls. What a dreadful way to live, always
looking for the worst in others and, undoubtedly finding it at
every turn…
She wondered if
she were kinder to the woman if it would help, then quickly decided
it would not. Rachel must always be a reminder of how life could go
awry for a female, no matter how well born or well connected.
Charity would always hold her in disgust because she was a living,
breathing example of the perils of being female.
Besides, whilst
a greater understanding of her sister-in-law’s motivations must
necessarily be enlightening, it changed nothing. Charity was
intrinsically unlikeable and no amount of charitable thoughts could
ever bring Rachel to actually wish to bond with the woman. All of
her sympathy was for James, saddled as he was with a pinched up
prude for a wife.
‘Am I
allowed to compliment you?’ Worsley inquired, dragging her
attention back to the immediate.
She gave him a
sideways glance. ‘I cannot think a compliment could ever be
considered unwelcome.’ Unless it was one of the florid, innuendo
ridden ones that she had suffered through the night before. Worsley
was in no danger of giving her any such flummery.
‘
In that case, you are looking particularly lovely
today.’
There was
something in his tone, an underlying warmth that made her cheeks
turn unexpectedly warm. Compliments were hardly a rarity for
Rachel, but Worsley’s delivery held a note of something, some
emotion that made her feel… intimately admired. She could have been
mistaken, of course but there was no mistaking the sudden rush of
longing that flooded through her in response. It made her blink,
stunned and disconcerted. Dropping her eyes to her plate to give
her time to compose herself, she managed a light, ‘Thank-you,’ in
return.
If he noticed
anything odd in her response, he chose not to show it. Instead he
spoke of the ceremony, the natural beauty of the bride, his friend
Adam’s mawkish behavior while dressing for the ceremony and soon
Rachel was herself again, her momentary awkwardness gone.
I’m
behaving like a schoolroom miss; she thought with exasperation and
made herself focus on the conversation, lest he think her
simple-minded. Lady Sheridan had organized simple entertainments to
follow the celebratory meal; favorite family games such as charades
and snapdragon, which contributed to large amounts of merriment.
Liza had cajoled her sisters into partaking in a play of her own
devising, a simple production that did not actually follow a script
but did involve quite a lot of dressing up. Liza, in the spirit of
devilment, tried to engage Charity in the role of Josephine to her
Napoleon, but the starchy creature was having none of it and
commented that the youngest Miss Sheridan should be ashamed of
herself for wanting to represent such a dastardly man.
‘
But that is why it is fun,’ Liza explained impatiently. ‘I
have seen several likenesses and he seems dreadfully puffed up.
Would it not be fun to make fun of him?’
‘Not in
the least,’ Charity returned, tone flat. ‘Some subjects are of too
much import to be taken lightly.’ She cast a sideways glance at her
in-laws. ‘I would never allow children of mine to behave in such a
fashion.’
Before anybody
could think of anything suitably quelling to quash this with,
Worsley spoke up.
‘Oh, but I do think Miss Liza has the right of it,’
he drawled. ‘I have
seen the little emperor and I can assure you, he was very full of
himself. A little levity would be very apt, even more so if he
could witness it.’
This comment saw
Liza gave him a smile so dazzling that it felt as
if the room lit up. She cast Charity a look of triumph. ‘See? Even
an
earl
thinks so.’
Charity would
have loved to have challenged so contentious a view, everybody
could see it. She swelled a little herself, much as Rachel imagined
Bonaparte would do but any comment must necessarily come out as an
argument and Charity, while usually very sure of herself and her
unassailable position, was not quite sure enough to stand up to
someone of Worsley’s stature. Rachel was inclined to think she
wasn’t the only one who wanted to applaud the man.
‘
You are not making yourself a friend in Charity,’ she
murmured, when the brief – and rather ridiculous – play had come to
an end and she resumed her seat beside him.
He gave her a
glimmer of a smile. ‘Why, whatever do you mean?’
‘
You know perfectly well what I mean. Well done!’
He gave a soft
laugh. ‘I am perfectly content to be Liza’s champion.’
‘
I am sure we all appreciate it.’
‘
I would be more than happy to be your champion too,
Rachel.’
The words
were so unexpected that it took Rachel a moment to understand. Then
she glanced at him sharply. ‘My lord -’
‘I know,’
he interrupted, before she could begin to question, to protest, to
fully understand what he meant by those startling words. ‘You do
not need a champion. You have your family to shelter you, your own
resources to fall back on. You are willing to suffer because you
are to blame and nobody else must be tarnished by your shocking
reputation.’
She was silent
for a moment, then said, a little tartly. ‘Well it is perfectly
true.’ Really, the man was beginning to alarm her!
‘
I know it is true. I know that you can continue on with this
life indefinitely, being a loving sibling, an affectionate
daughter, a doting aunt. But don’t you want more from life than
that, Rachel?’
Rachel
stared at him, searching his face. He sounded very much as if he
would like to be the one to give her more from life, but she was
bewildered as to what he meant. An icy finger seemed to touch her,
a frigid little wind that blew through her unpleasantly and she
wondered if, like so many of the men the evening before, he had
decided that Rachel Sheridan would be a suitable candidate for his
mistress. Perhaps he wished to put her up in her own little house
somewhere quiet, where he could visit her, spend a few days, or
even a week or two. She could have his children and he would
probably treat them very well, although they could only be his
bastards, with no standing in Society or acknowledgement by his
friends and family. She would never be able to take them to Adam
and Charlotte’s, not when their house was right next to their
father’s who would…
Stop it!
With a Herculean effort she reined in this mad train of
thought, cursing herself because, even amidst her indignation that
he could ever consider making her such an offer, there was a small,
but very emphatic, part of her that found the thought of bearing
Worsley’s children, of having him come and play the part of
husband, to be exceedingly appealing. She suspected he would be
a
marvelous
father. More than that, she thought that he would be an excellent
husband; although that was something she would never be able to
truly confirm.
Realizing that the silence had gone on for some time and
that she must be staring at him as one bedazzled, she swallowed and
cleared her throat. What to say?
Thank you so very much, but I am afraid I
must decline the position of mistress? How dare you? Who do you
think you are?
But Worsley had no doubt who he was, that much was
obvious. And while
she was stunned to realize that there was a part of her that
yearned to embrace such a union with him, there was another part
that shriveled a little inside that he could ever think that she
would accept such a tawdry bargain.
Something on
her face must have given away the storm raging inside for he
frowned. ‘Rachel? What is wrong?’
For a moment
she feared she could not speak, lest her voice give her away. She
wanted to rail at him, to stand up and shriek like a fishwife in
the marketplace. The tenuous flower that had blossomed from what
she assumed was his good regard shrank back into itself.
‘I am
afraid I must decline your… your kind offer,’ she said carefully,
her voice so flat that it was utterly colorless. She felt a surge
of fury, so intense it momentarily threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I
am… I am tired. If you will excuse me.’
Rachel went to
rise from her chair but before she could do so, a hand shot out,
fingers circling her wrist.
‘
No. Wait.’
Wait
?
Rachel turned glittering eyes in Worsley’s direction, before
dropping them deliberately to the hand that dared touch her. It
remained where it was.
‘
I have an unpleasant feeling that you have misunderstood what
I have said.’
‘
Have I?’ she inquired, voice now icy, a counterpoint to the
heaving sea of angry misery that seemed to rise and fall within her
like a cold, grey tide. She could not say why she felt so
devastated at his suggestion, but there was no gainsaying the bleak
sweep of misery that had her in its grip. She had thought that they
were developing a real friendship, although a small voice within
had been insisting that it was not friendship that was beginning to
blossom within her. Her growing feelings for Worsley were cause for
concern, no doubt, but she had comforted herself with the knowledge
that he would be gone soon and whatever filaments of desire he had
been stirring within her would settle down to sleep once
more.
His offer of an
illicit, ongoing relationship should not have stung. But it did, to
a ridiculous degree.
‘
Rachel, I am not asking you to be my mistress.’
Considering the unruly emotions that had her in their grip,
it took her a moment to comprehend what he was saying. The words
filtered through the fog of internal unhappiness slowly.
She blinked at
him, finally absorbing them. Even so… ‘You are not?’
‘
Of course not. Good Lord, do you think so little of me?’
Despite the words, he did not seem offended. The grey eyes were
steady, looking into her own, but they held no heat.
‘I…’ She paused, trying to pull her scattered wits
together. He had not asked her to be his mistress. Some of the
bleakness vanished and the icy chill that had settled began to
melt. It left a sense of confusion behind. ‘Of course not. I mean…
To be honest, Sir, I have no idea what you are saying. And,’ she
added with complete honesty, ‘while I am sorry that I have offended
you, I do not really know
what
kind of man you are. I had thought that you were
an honorable one. It seems that I was correct.’