Lady Sophie joined them at the table, and Lyon paid great attention to her. Thea decided over the creamed peas and her third glass of wine that they would make beautiful children—Sophie with her blonde beauty and Lyon with his dark handsomeness. Oh, yes, adorable children. She smiled as the footman refilled her glass.
Thea didn’t usually drink more than one glass, but today had been a challenging day.
And it continued to be a challenging evening. Lady Lila did her best to reclaim Lyon. He kept his distance. He, Mirabel, Sir James, and Lady Sophie were involved in a spirited game of cards that had all the others gathered around them. Thea’s presence was not needed, and it made her feel a bit alone.
He also didn’t look at Thea. Not once.
She knew because she kept her eye on him.
Mirabel excused herself from the table, giving her card hand over to Miss Pomfrey. She wandered over to where Thea sat in a corner. “What is the matter with you?” she whispered.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Thea answered.
“You are glaring at people.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are,” Mirabel insisted. “You are giving a cold, hard stare.”
“You are being ridiculous.”
In answer to that charge, Mirabel went away in a huff.
But the exchange did make it clear to Thea that she was not fit company. She and Mirabel never argued. She excused herself and retired to her room, aware as she climbed the stairs that, yes, she was a bit tipsy—and she missed her sons. They kept her grounded.
Of course, wine made one maudlin. As she wandered toward her room, she wondered if alone was how she would always be. She didn’t regret it. She was happier alone than in her marriage, but still . . . didn’t life have more to offer?
“Apparently not,” Thea murmured to no one in particular. She didn’t wait for a maid but undressed herself, not bothering to braid her hair as was her custom, and climbed into bed.
She was half asleep when there was a knock at the door.
Thea rolled over on her back, annoyed. “Yes?” she said, half expecting to hear Mirabel’s voice, probably on some mission to chastise her more.
“It’s Nessa, Mrs. Martin. I need to speak to you.”
Assuming the maid wanted to help her undress for the night, Thea said, “I am already in bed, Nessa. That’s fine.”
“I need to speak to you.”
The hushed urgency in the maid’s voice penetrated Thea’s wine drowsiness. She came up on her elbows. “Come in.”
The door opened, letting in light from the hallway’s lamps. Nessa hurried to Thea’s bedside and knelt. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said, her voice low, as if she was afraid of being overheard, “but there is something afoot that you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Lady Lila’s maid has become fast friends with one of the footmen. He told me she was bragging not five minutes ago that Lady Lila is determined to marry Lord Lyon.”
This was not news. “And?” Thea asked.
“She’s going to his bedroom this night and place herself in his bed. When Lord Lyon comes up to bed, her father will enter the room and accuse him of taking advantage of his daughter. Lord Lyon will have no choice but to marry her.”
“What of his valet?” Thea asked.
“He didn’t bring one. He’s been using one of the house servants. The maid said they’ve bribed him to make himself scarce while this all takes place.”
“Not on my watch she won’t,” Thea said, anger bringing her wide awake. She jumped out of bed, tossing her hair over her shoulder and grabbing her dressing gown.
“What are you going to do?” Nessa asked.
“I’m going to toss that little hussy out of his room,” Thea answered. “And then I am throwing both her and her conniving father out of Lady Palmer’s house. You might wish to distance yourself from this,” she advised Nessa as she went marching out the door. “It will become ugly.”
Chapter Nine
Thea nodded at the footman already at his station at the top of the stairs as she turned down the connecting hallway. But before she’d gone too far down the hall, a precaution struck her. She reapproached the servant.
“Is everyone still downstairs?” she asked, knowing that he would answer because of her close friendship with Mirabel.
“All but yourself, ma’am, and one of the young ladies.”
“Which young lady?” Thea tried to smile and take the edge off her question.
“I don’t know her title, ma’am, but she had dark hair.”
Only Lila had dark hair. The game was on.
“Thank you,” Thea said, almost relishing the challenge. She knew which room was Lyon’s. Mirabel would place him in her best suite.
She knocked on his door.
There was no answer.
Boldly, she entered. A lamp burned on a side table. The sheets on the bed had been turned down. There was no one in it.
That was a relief, although Thea had been looking forward to snatching Lady Lila up by the scruff of her neck and escorting her out of the room.
Thea walked over to a chair beside the cold hearth and sat, her arms and ankles crossed. Lady Lila was going to be in for a surprise when she put her little plan in motion.
The clock on the mantel ticked away the minutes. Thea waited, impatient.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen—
The door opened.
Thea rose slowly to her feet as Lady Lila backed into the room. The girl was trying to be very quiet and had her attention on not being seen by someone in the hallway, so she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone inside the room until Thea said, “Hello, my lady.”
Lady Lila jumped straight into the air. Her dark, curling hair was down around her shoulders, and Thea doubted that she had anything on beneath the dressing gown she wore. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” Thea informed her smartly. “And now I’m going to escort you back to your bed.”
“I’m not going,” Lady Lila announced. “The Lyon asked me here. We’ve been meeting every night.”
“And I know that you haven’t,” Thea responded. “I have servants who will corroborate my story if you should be so unwise as to persist with your lies.”
Anger flared in Lady Lila’s eyes at the mention of the servants.
“Now,” Thea said, advancing on the girl, “if you are wise, you will return to your room and say nothing of this to anyone, because if you do, I shall put the word out about your schemes and you will be ruined. Do you understand—?”
She wasn’t able to finish her sentence because Lady Lila doubled a fist and smacked her against the side of the head. Thea’s world spun. She couldn’t think, could barely see. She went to her knees and reached for the floor for balance.
“No one tells me what to do. Especially if she is some ratty nobody who threw away her pride. No one cares about you. No one.”
From the corner of her eye, Thea caught the movement of Lady Lila raising her hand to strike her again. Thea lifted an arm to protect herself.
But the second blow never came.
Thea turned to see Neal holding onto the hand Lady Lila would have struck her with. “What do you think you are doing?” he demanded in a low voice.
Lady Lila started to shout, a sound that turned into a whimper when she saw who had her. She shook her hand free from him, backed up and charged out of the room as fast as her bare feet could take her.
Thea wanted to tell Neal to stop her. The others should know how uncontrollable the girl could be, but her world was still spinning from the blow.
Neal closed the door and knelt beside her. “Thea, are you all right?”
She wanted to tell him that was the silliest question she’d ever heard. Of course she wasn’t all right. But she was so shaken that she couldn’t make her mouth work.
He put his arms around her and she gratefully leaned against him for support.
“Easy, easy,” he whispered. “Take deep breaths and relax.”
Thea did as he said. She leaned her head against the strength of his shoulder and felt her whole body collapse against him. Her breathing became more normal, but she had a new terror to contend with—she’d started to cry, and she couldn’t stop it. All she had the energy to do was bury her face in the folds of his evening jacket and release all the pent-up doubts, fears and frustrations in huge, ugly-sounding sobs.
And it felt good.
How long had she been holding all this in? She was so tired of struggling to make her life meaningful, to provide for her sons, to overcome the disadvantages she’d weighed down upon them.
Neal, God bless him, didn’t say a word. He was like a stone wall, strong, dependable, present. Thea couldn’t remember the last time she’d turned to a man for support. She couldn’t remember when she’d trusted one enough to be vulnerable.
But this was Neal. She’d thought his friendship gone from her life forever, but now he’d returned. Good, solid, kind . . . handsome . . .
Thea didn’t know really how it happened. One moment she was leaning against him, crying her heart out, and in the next, his lips were right there, inches from hers.
She didn’t know who moved first. She might have. Maybe he did.
But at the first contact of his lips against hers, she was glad one of them did.
Their kiss was tentative for all of four seconds, and then it became fuller. Deeper. More demanding.
Thea had always enjoyed the intimacy of a kiss, and yet she’d sensed there had always been something missing.
Here, in Neal’s arms, she found it.
It hadn’t been just any man she’d wanted to kiss. She’d wanted this one.
With stunning clarity, she realized what had been missing in her marriage. Yes, Boyd’s excesses had played a role in her disappointment. Their love had been shallow, a necessity, and, from her part, a bid for freedom.
But she’d been searching in Boyd’s arms for what she experienced right now. She parted her lips, wanting to breathe Neal in.
Their tongues met, touched, stroked. She tightened her hold around his neck. If she could have, she would have climbed right into his skin.
And he felt the same. He was eager, hungry. His hand slid down her shoulder, rested on her waist a moment before slipping inside her dressing gown and cupping her breast. The touch vanquished all common sense, all taboos, all fears and doubts.
This was Neal without the trappings or title, rank or responsibilities. This was the Neal she’d known all those years ago. She’d yearned for this man. She desired him. She wanted him inside her—
“I say, what are you doing with my daughter?” Lord Corkindale’s voice shouted as the bedroom door was forcefully shoved open. The door hit Neal’s back, which was blocking it from opening fully, and threw him against Thea. She lost her balance and the two of them tumbled to the floor, Neal turning at the last moment so that he didn’t fall on her.
The way no longer blocked, the door flew open and Lord Corkindale practically stumbled into the room in his enthusiasm, almost tripping over Neal and Thea.
Nor was he alone. Mirabel was with him. “If you’ve compromised her—,” Lord Corkindale started to threaten as he regained his balance, but then he froze as he realized it wasn’t his daughter Neal was holding. He took a step back. “Mrs. Martin?” He looked around. “Where’s Lila?”
“She isn’t here,” Neal said, coming to his feet and bringing Thea with him. Her dressing gown was hanging open, her nightdress had been up around her knees, her lips were bruised from his kisses, and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Everything had happened so quickly that she still hadn’t registered the turn of events. She did have the presence of mind to retie the sash of her dressing gown.
“Lila has to be here,” Lord Corkindale said, confused.
“I’m so sorry we disturbed you, my lord,” Mirabel said, giving Thea a sly, approving look. “Good night.”
She reached for Lord Corkindale as if to guide him out before anyone was the wiser, but he shook off her arm. “What is going on here?” Confusion was giving way to anger. “Mrs. Martin, what were you doing on the floor with Lord Lyon? And why are you wearing hardly a stitch of clothes on you?”
Thea thought her nightdress and gown was more than enough coverage, far more than Lady Lila had been wearing.
Yes, it was unseemly for her to be in a gentleman’s room in night attire, but she had a good reason for being there. “I’m here because your daughter—,” she started to explain, only to be interrupted by Lady Lila herself.
“Father, why are you shouting?” Lady Lila asked in a small, sweet voice as she pressed open the door. She then gave a huge gasp of horror before exclaiming in a loud voice, “Mrs. Martin, what have you and Lord Lyon been doing?”
Almost immediately, as if they had been summoned, the Montvales, the Carpsleys and Lady Sophie joined the gathering around the doorway.
Neal was a bit confused about what was happening.
Of course part of that was because his brain still sizzled from Thea’s kiss. He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but when he’d walked into the room and there she’d been—
Who knew a kiss could turn a man inside out? He’d never felt such a strong, overwhelming connection with anyone in his life. Her kiss had touched his very soul. Who cared what these people had to say? He wanted to kiss Thea again.
“Can you believe this?” Lady Lila said to the others. “Here we are thinking Mrs. Martin is a person of integrity, and she’s been caught throwing herself at Lord Lyon. How incredible. How disappointing.”
“Now wait a minute,” Thea said, ready to explain herself, but Lady Carpsley stepped forward, her eyebrows so high on her forehead they seemed to reach her hairline.
“This is scandalous. Shocking. We now know why you kept steering Lord Lyon away from our daughter.”
“That is not true—,” Thea attempted to say.
“I can’t believe my father brought me here,” Lady Lila cut in with a woebegone voice.
“I shouldn’t have,” Lord Corkindale agreed. “This is disgraceful. And I thought you were a woman of moral character,” he said to Thea.
Neal stepped forward, his fist doubling, but Thea herself pulled him back. “Don’t you talk to me about character,” Thea said to Lord Corkindale.
“And don’t you lecture me,” he returned.
“I have seen enough,” Lady Montvale said, her voice carrying over the others. “Mrs. Martin, you have much to answer for.”
“And I will,” Thea said. The color had drained from her face at her ladyship’s censure. “If you will all just hear me out—”
“I don’t think any of us should listen to you,” Lady Lila stated. “This is not the first time you’ve shown poor form, is it now? You have a history of it. I heard someone suggest you weren’t really a widow. That there was never a Mr. Martin—”
Neal could contain himself no longer. “That is enough.”
His words served to quiet Lady Lila. She blinked as if just realizing he was present and she retreated back a step, but the society matrons were not so easily cowed.
Lady Montvale spoke. “My lord, I have the highest regard for you. You are a man, after all, and given a man’s appetites, there will be, how do we say it? Ah, peccadilloes. But Mrs. Martin has surprised us all. Against our better judgment we involved ourselves with her. And we are now dismayed by her behavior. However, this doesn’t mean we hold disapproval of you. We still think of you as an excellent suitor for our daughter’s hand—”
“As I do,” Lord Corkindale interjected, “for Lila. Quite a pair you are. Handsome couple.”
“You have lovely daughters, but, unfortunately, I have been taken off the market,” Neal heard himself say. He reached for Thea and gathered her protectively against his body. “Mrs. Martin has just honored me by accepting my proposal of marriage.”
If the roof of the house had fal
len in, the gathering in front of him could not have looked more shocked. Including Thea. She rocked back. Her head swung up to stare at him as if he’d gone mad.
Maybe he had . . . and he wasn’t sorry for it.
But for the first time in his memory, he was acting according to his wishes, his wants, his desires.
Freedom was a heady thing.
Neal took advantage of the silence. “I hope, Lord and Lady Montvale, that you will treat my soon-to-be wife with the respect and courtesy she deserves. Lord Corkindale, Lady Lila, I register your disappointment.” He noticed that Sir James and the Pomfreys had also joined the group. They had been walking toward their rooms when they had noticed the crowd in his hall. “James, wish me well. Mrs. Martin has agreed to be my wife.”
The more Neal said it, the more the idea took hold with him. Perhaps it was the aftereffect of the kiss. Or perhaps it was because now Thea wouldn’t have to worry about money, or where her son would be going to school. He would take care of them. He would be their protector . . . and her lover—
“I am not marrying him,” Thea said. “Don’t listen to his rubbish.” She shoved Neal away from her with all she was worth and walked through the dumbfounded crowd and out the door.
In all his imaginings, Neal had never considered that someone would turn down his offer of marriage. Not once.
And Thea needed him. Her sons needed him.
“I’ll marry you,” Lady Lila announced.
Neal batted the offer away with his hand, her words as insistent and inconsequential as a black fly. “Excuse me,” he murmured, and went after Thea.
Chapter Ten
Thea knew Neal followed. She could feel his heavier steps behind her. She began running for her room, her bare feet pounding the floor. She almost mowed down a maid as she raced around the corner. She didn’t stop to apologize. She ran to the haven of her room and slammed the door, throwing her back against it, her heart pounding in her chest.
Nessa had lit the bedside table lamp. The room, with its rumpled bed, looked so peaceful. She should never have left it. Who would have predicted such a strange chain of events would uproot her world?
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