Iris couldn’t help but sigh. ‘Mother, we’ve already stayed an extra three weeks at Lady Walberton’s. We can hardly move in permanently.’
Her mother waved her hand in front of her face as if that was no problem. ‘I’m sure Lady Walberton will not mind in the slightest.’
‘But what about the rest of the family? What about the rest of the Season? I’ve got no interest in attending any further balls, but Daisy might want to, and someone needs to accompany her. And surely Father is missing you.’
‘Getting your sister to attend a ball is becoming an almost impossible feat, so I’ve all but given up on that, and should a miracle happen your brother can escort her. And your father can always come down here and visit us. No, I sense that a marriage to the Earl is imminent, so we shouldn’t give up now when it’s all so close.’
‘But he doesn’t love me,’ Iris said, despair in her voice.
‘Yet,’ her mother replied emphatically. ‘He doesn’t love you yet, Iris, always remember that. Some men just take a bit more persuading than others. Your father was such a man and so is the Earl.’
Iris collapsed down onto her bed while her mother paced back and forth, thinking of strategies to turn a heart of stone into one that was warm and cuddly. Something that was much more of a conundrum than whether one should have donkey or pony rides at a fête.
‘Perhaps we need to host a ball, here at the Walbertons’. Or maybe if we—’
‘No, Mother,’ Iris cut in. ‘I know you mean well, but there’s no point. You can’t make a man love you. He either does or he doesn’t. And the Earl most decidedly doesn’t.’
‘But your father, he thought he didn’t...’
‘No, Mother, you’re wrong. Father would have fallen in love with you no matter what. I’m sure, no matter what you think, the moment he met you he was smitten. It’s different with the Earl. This is all just a waste of time, and frankly rather embarrassing.’
‘Oh, my dear,’ her mother said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘I never intended to upset you.’ She wiped away the tear that had inexplicably appeared on Iris’s cheek. ‘If it’s upsetting and embarrassing you, then of course I’ll stop.’
‘And can we just return to London and forget all about this?’
Her mother gave her a long, appraising look. ‘If that is what you wish, my dear, what you really, really wish?’
‘It is,’ Iris said, nodding with determination. It wasn’t entirely what she wanted but it was what she was going to have to accept. Despite her mother’s claims, she knew that a man could not be forced to fall in love. And she was also certain that she did not want a man’s love if he had to be tricked and cajoled into giving it. It was better just to accept the reality that Theo Crighton, the Earl of Greystone, was not in love with her and there was no amount of fêtes, balls, picnics or whatever that would change that.
* * *
Theo raged, and he fumed, and he argued repeatedly with her in his head. Who did she think she was? Coming into his life, trying to change everything, trying to change him? Did she think one kiss gave her the right to tell him how he should live his life? Well, it didn’t, and thank goodness he had put her straight about that.
Since he had all but ejected her from his house, he had heard nothing from Lady Iris or her interfering mother. He had expected more unwanted invitations, more veiled threats that if he didn’t attend this or that social event he would be strong-armed into a marriage he didn’t want. But no invitations came. The blackmailing appeared to have ceased.
Good. Finally, both mother and daughter had got the message. Life could return to normal. All he needed now was to get her out of his head and he would be free of her.
He resumed pacing up and down, all those ridiculous things she had said running repeatedly through his mind.
‘Hiding away,’ he said out loud. He turned and walked back along the well-worn track down the middle of his drawing room.
How dare she tell him he was hiding away? How dare she call him a coward?
He paused in his walking. No, she hadn’t actually said that, had she? She’d said he wasn’t a coward. But she had said he had been hiding because he needed to heal, as if he were some sort of sick animal. He resumed his pacing. How dare she compare him to an injured animal?
He clenched his teeth together tighter, his jaw aching from tension, tension that little miss Lady Iris had caused him. He hadn’t been tense like this before she’d come bursting into his life. She might be right that he hadn’t been particularly happy, and perhaps he hadn’t been content either, as he had claimed, but at least he hadn’t had all this pent-up tension inside him, making his muscles ache and his thoughts a whirl of confusion. She alone was responsible for that. Before she had washed up on his doorstep, wet from the storm, he hadn’t paced his room, he hadn’t ranted and raved to himself like some demented madman.
And then just as suddenly as she had appeared, she disappeared from his life.
‘Good riddance,’ he muttered to himself. He was much better off without her coming in and giving her unwanted opinions on the way he lived his life.
Or had she returned to London? His pacing stopped. Had she gone back to the social flurry of balls, parties, the theatre, picnics and heaven only knew what other activities she should be filling her days and nights with? No doubt she was shining at them all, being fawned over by a coterie of men such as Lord Pratley. Well, they were welcome to her. And she was welcome to that lifestyle if that was what she wanted. But it was not for him. And how dared she think that it was? Just because she wanted to fill her own days with frivolous laughter and entertainment, it did not mean he did as well.
He recommenced walking the well-trodden path down the middle of his drawing room, then came to a sudden stop. And at these parties, balls and picnics, was she giving her kisses to some other man? Was some other man unleashing that untapped passion he had experienced when he had taken her in his arms? Was some other man holding her tightly, feeling her soft body pressed against his?
His hands clenched into fists so tight the nails dug into his flesh. Why should he care what she was or wasn’t doing, who she was or wasn’t kissing? Some other poor dupe could be blackmailed into marrying Lady Iris by that conniving mother for all he cared. At least he was safe from that dreaded fate.
Yes, it was all for the best that she was back in London, away from him, and trying to trap some other poor sap into marriage. No, that was unfair. She had never tried to trap him into marriage, and if she had wanted to she most certainly could have. And her mother could also have made him marry the girl, not merely host a fête.
But it was still good that she had gone, back to her life, and out of his.
He turned around and paused. Not that he knew for certain that she had returned to London. For all he knew she could still be staying with the Walbertons.
Hadn’t the mother mentioned they were staying another month? That time had nearly passed, but they had extended their visit once before, and there was no reason why they couldn’t extend it further. Lady Iris might still be staying within walking distance of his home, and he could be subjected to another unwanted and uninvited visit at any moment.
Perhaps he should find out, just to put his mind at rest. He could walk over to the Walbertons’ and find out once and for all whether or not she had left the county. Then he could put all thoughts of her out of his mind and know for certain that he was never again going to be pestered by her or her mother.
Max would enjoy the walk and he could do with some exercise himself. That might be the perfect remedy for all this excess energy that was coursing through his body. He knew the path well enough and, with Max at his side, finding his way shouldn’t present any problems.
Yes, that was what he would do. He rang the bell to summon Charles.
‘Fetch my hat, coat and cane,’ he said with new-found det
ermination. ‘I’m going to take Max out for a walk.’
‘Very good, my lord,’ Charles replied. ‘But you have a visitor. Should I send her in first?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
‘What?’ Theo asked, even though he had heard Charles clearly.
Charles coughed slightly. ‘It’s Lady Estelle Redcliffe, my lord.’
As if his lungs had been punctured, Theo’s held breath escaped and he gasped in another.
‘Please show her in, Charles,’ he said, surprised that his initial shock quickly changed to disappointment. He had expected Lady Iris, but how could he possibly be disappointed? He had waited for this moment for six years. When Charles left, he walked across to his chair, grabbed his jacket, pulled it on and waited.
The last time Lady Redcliffe had been in his house she had still been an unmarried woman, and he’d been happily anticipating their wedding, their honeymoon in Italy and their future together.
It had been a different time and he had been a different man. And now she would see what he had become. A pitiful invalid, a recluse, a man who had never recovered from the pain of her desertion. A man who, as Lady Iris had said, had hidden himself away to tend his wounds, too broken to return to Society.
‘Theo, it’s so good to see you again.’ Her voice was just the same. Just as light. Just as carefree and musical. It was a voice that had once entranced him.
‘Lady Redcliffe,’ he responded with a low bow.
‘I’m so sorry to come uninvited but I was sure you wouldn’t mind. Are you going to ask me to sit down?’
He gestured to the chair beside the fireplace, the one that had been placed so Lady Iris could get close to the fire when she had arrived at his house wet and bedraggled. The one she had sat in when she had questioned him about the way he lived his life. The chair from which he had all but ejected her and then made it plain he did not want to see her again.
‘I’m visiting neighbours of yours, so I thought I couldn’t possibly not come and see you while I was so close by,’ she said as she sat down.
Theo wondered whether he should point out that she did not live so very far from him and had managed to avoid visiting him for the last six years. Six years when he had desperately hoped that she would come.
‘You are most welcome, Lady Redcliffe,’ Theo said, unsure if that was still the truth.
‘Oh, please, call me Estelle, and please, sit down. Or do you require some assistance?’ He heard the rustle of her skirt as she stood up.
‘No, I’m perfectly capable,’ he said, taking the seat opposite her.
‘Yes, you are, aren’t you?’ She paused, as if taking the time to assess him. ‘And it was so good to see you again at the Walbertons’ dinner party and I hope you were pleased to see me as well.’ She paused again, then laughed. ‘Well, you couldn’t actually see me, could you, but you know what I mean.’
He suppressed his irritation at her attempt at humour and merely nodded in acknowledgement.
‘It is good to see you again, Theo. You are looking well, I must say. Much better than I would have expected.’
She moved in her seat, satin crinkling. ‘But you always were a handsome man and the scarring is hardly noticeable now.’ Her voice was now closer to him as she leaned forward. ‘It’s nowhere near as bad as I had been led to believe.’
‘I have no idea how bad my scarring is. As you pointed out, I can’t see.’ Why he should be so irritated by Lady Redcliffe he had no idea. Was he such a curmudgeon that he couldn’t even stop himself from being annoyed with the woman he had once loved to distraction? A woman he hadn’t stopped thinking about for the last six years. He revised that thought. She was no longer on his mind quite so much. For the last few weeks Lady Iris had also intruded on his thoughts, often driving out all memories of the woman to whom he had once pledged his undying love.
‘Well, believe me, it’s not too bad at all, in fact.’
And yet you can’t stop talking about it.
‘And you appear to be coping very well with your handicap,’ she continued.
‘I cope. But what about you? I take it that marriage and being a titled lady is everything you hoped it would be.’ He was curious to know but also wanted to shift the subject from his infirmity.
She shuffled in her seat. ‘That is partly why I’m here, Theo. I wanted to apologise for choosing Lord Redcliffe over you.’
It was Theo’s turn to move uncomfortably as he crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. He did not want to rake over old ground. Did not want to be reminded of that terrible time when she had abandoned him when he needed her the most.
‘I really did believe at the time that it was the sensible thing to do,’ she continued, her voice beseeching. ‘The only thing I could do. I hope you understand, Theo.’
He hadn’t understood at the time and was unsure whether he did now.
‘But that is not what you asked me, is it?’ she said. ‘You asked me if my marriage and my title are everything I hoped they would be.’
‘And are they?’
‘Well, I have to admit I love being a married woman—it gives one so much more freedom—and I love having a title...love the status that being the wife of an earl gives me.’
‘So you have everything you want. Few people can say that.’
‘But I do miss you, Theo,’ she said, her voice quiet as if her head was lowered.
Theo could say that he had missed her terribly as well. For the last six years he had constantly imagined what his life would have been like if he had not been burnt in that fire. How he would have been married to a beautiful woman whom he adored. How they would have lived a charmed life. How by now they would have children. Instead, he was living alone with his misery, knowing that the woman he loved was with another man.
‘And I hope you missed me as well, Theo.’
‘I missed you terribly,’ he said in all honesty. ‘But what’s done is done.’
‘But it doesn’t have to be the end of things,’ she said, urgency in her voice.
Theo frowned. Of course it was the end. She had married someone else.
She lowered her voice. ‘As I said, married women have certain freedoms. I have done my duty by my husband and provided him with two fine boys. Now he allows me the same freedoms that he has also exercised throughout his married life. Freedoms that I wish to take advantage of. With you.’
Theo said nothing, surprised by this turn in the conversation.
‘You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?’
Still he made no response.
‘Are you going to make me say it?’
She waited, but he chose not to answer.
‘Oh, Theo, can’t you tell, you silly man? I’m offering to become your mistress.’
Again, he chose not to respond.
She laughed lightly. ‘That’s if you’ll have me.’ Her laughter made it clear she expected him to agree wholeheartedly. So why was he hesitating?
‘If you’re worried about people finding out, you don’t need to be,’ she rushed on, assuming that was why he was unresponsive. ‘No one need know. I visit Lady Walberton on a regular basis, so it would work out perfectly. We could be very discreet.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I know how much you wanted me, Theo—still want me. Now you can have me.’
‘I don’t believe that would be the right thing to do, Lady Redcliffe,’ he said, surprised at his own reaction.
She laughed, a laugh that was no longer melodious but tinged with bitterness. ‘You don’t need to be so honourable. My husband certainly isn’t.’
She paused and drew in a deep breath. ‘Oh, Theo, I’m so unhappy. My husband doesn’t love me any more,’ she said, her words coming out in a rush. ‘Now that he’s got the children he wants he never even touches me. When we first married, he couldn’t get enough of me. He showered me with
gifts and was constantly telling me how beautiful I was. Now he hardly speaks to me and I know he has a mistress in London.’ She paused, and when she spoke again her voice was full of bitter defiance. ‘So I don’t see why I can’t do the same. He certainly wouldn’t care.’
Was that the role she expected him to play? She wanted him so she could get revenge on her husband for his unfaithfulness, for his lack of compliments. She wanted Theo to be the one to worship her beauty, to shower her with gifts. It was a role he had once happily played, but was it what he wanted now?
She stood up and approached his chair. ‘So, do you want me to be your lover, Theo?’ He made to stand but she placed her hand on his shoulder. ‘Silly question. I know you want me. I saw how you reacted when we met at the Walbertons’ dinner party.’
She leant down, her face close to his. ‘Well, you could have me, Theo,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Not as your wife, but as your lover.’
Her hand lightly caressed his cheek. ‘My husband isn’t expecting me back until this evening,’ she whispered, her implication clear.
He took hold of her hand and stood up. ‘Lady Redcliffe, you are a married woman. Your loyalty should be to your husband.’
‘Married? Loyalty?’ she said, her voice harsh. ‘You know nothing of my life. My husband doesn’t love me any more.’ Her voice softened. ‘But you do. When I saw you at the Walbertons’, when I saw the way you reacted to meeting me again, I knew that you were still in love with me.’
She leant in towards him. ‘My husband doesn’t love me the way you did, Theo. The way you can still love me.’
‘You made your choice six years ago, Estelle,’ he said, his voice gentle.
‘So, does that mean you’re actually saying no to me?’ She laughed at the absurdity of that possibility.
‘That’s what I’m saying.’ Theo could hardly believe it himself. ‘I am sorry your marriage is not all that you had hoped. But the time for us has passed. I think you should return to your husband.’
Harlequin Historical September 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Page 42
