by Rose Pearson
Not that it did not torment him, seeing those gentlemen make Miss Newton laugh and smile or watching them step out together. Lord Donoghue was particularly persistent in his intentions which, Hugh believed, meant that he was correct in his belief that Lord Donoghue would propose to her at the ball in a little over a week’s time. His mind was often flooded with worry over what she might say to such a proposal, knowing that should she agree, then he would have to find a way to go on with his life without her.
However, Hugh did not regret telling her the truth about his own feelings. It had been right for him to do so, although it had not been an excuse as to why he had spoken so harshly to his steward. It had been the only way he could explain to Miss Newton why he had said something so cruel, why he had wanted to keep the truth from his steward.
It had felt right to lay himself open to her in such a way, although should she turn from him into the arms of Lord Donoghue, Hugh did not know how he’d survive. He was between agony and hope to see her smile with Lord Donoghue, but yet finding her company increasingly enjoyable in the evenings over dinner and then sometimes, in the drawing room where he, Miss Newton and his brother shared spirited conversation.
“Lord Seaworth?”
Pulled away from his thoughts, Hugh turned to see Miss Newton standing behind him, her bonnet on her head.
“Miss Newton,” he said at once, turning around from where he’d been looking at a book on one of the library shelves. “Are you to go out somewhere?”
A faint blush caught her cheeks. “To be truthful, Lord Seaworth, I had hoped to visit the London library again, but Mrs. Miller is somewhat tired, and I did not want to press her.” They had all attended a ball last evening, and Hugh could well understand that Mrs. Miller was still weary from it. It had lasted well into the early hours of the morning, and when they had all finally climbed into the carriage, Hugh had wanted nothing more than to lay his head back against the squabs and sleep.
“I see,” he said, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “Are you expecting Lord Donoghue?”
There came a blush to her cheeks again. “No, I am not.”
Suddenly, the realization of what she was trying to ask him hit Hugh square between the eyes. Drawing in a sharp breath, he looked down at her, hope burning a hole in his chest. “Might I accompany you then? With a maid, of course.”
Her smile lit her eyes. “That would be very kind of you, Lord Seaworth. I confess that, whilst I have now been to the library on two occasions, I feel as though there is so much more of it for me to explore.” She tipped her head a little, her eyes looking into his. “Are you sure you would not mind?”
On instinct, he reached out and took her hand, suddenly aware that she was not wearing gloves. “It would be my delight, Miss Newton.” Lifting her hand, he brushed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand as a roar of heat rushed up his spine and into his face, his heart thundering wildly. For a moment, they were frozen in time, looking into one another’s eyes as he held her hand lightly in his own.
And then, she stepped back, her cheeks a rosy pink as her eyes darted away from his. “Thank you, Lord Seaworth. I will wait for you by the front door.”
Despite having to drop his own plans for the afternoon, Hugh found himself delighting in the chance to spend time with Miss Newton alone. The London library was large indeed, but it was the look on Miss Newton’s face that made him smile. It was as though she were lost in some kind of wonderful new world, her eyes roving around the great expanse as if it were filled with amazing artifacts.
“My goodness,” she breathed, as they walked along the marble floors. “There are so many books here that I do not think even a single person could read them in their lifetime!”
Hugh chuckled, looking down at her and feeling his heart soften all the more as she looked back at him with a shy glance. “You are quite right, Miss Newton, I doubt they could.”
“You are not laughing at me?”
He shook his head, his eyes tender. “No, of course I am not. I find your delight to be one of the loveliest things I have ever seen.” His throat worked for a moment as he drew in a breath of courage. “You are the loveliest thing I have ever seen, Miss Newton.”
She did not take her gaze from his but accepted his compliment without looking away, her smile slowly stretching across her face. “You are very kind Lord Seaworth,” she said, softly.
Clearing his throat, Hugh offered her his arm, and, without hesitation, she took it at once.
“Might we go in search of a new novel for me?” he asked, aware of the astonishment in her eyes. “I know you found me a novel to read some days ago but I confess that I have finished it already.” A laugh escaped him as Miss Newton’s eyes widened, having evidently surprised her. “You did not expect that, I think.”
“No, I did not,” she agreed, laughing along with him. “And of course, we must find you something new. It is only by reading that one develops a voracious appetite for more!”
Suddenly caught by a vision of Miss Newton walking alongside him as his wife, Hugh closed his eyes for a moment before making his way to the back of the library where Miss Newton said they would find fiction novels. She was everything he could ever want – intelligent, well spoken, genteel, kind, compassionate and forgiving. She had experienced so much by his hand, from his self-centeredness to his lack of consideration of her own thoughts and desires. She had seen him to be the worst kind of gentleman but yet now was walking with her hand on his arm, accepting and believing that the change in his character was both true and genuine. There was not another lady like her, and Hugh felt his heart burst with love.
Love.
It was not an emotion he had ever experienced before, and yet, there it was, coursing all through him. It made him catch his breath, his whole body tightening with awareness. It was not that he wanted simply to take Miss Newton to bed, but rather that his desire was to make her his bride. He wanted to have her as his own for all the days of his life, however long or short that was to be. With Rodger so happy, Hugh felt as though it were his turn to secure his own happiness. A happiness that would only come with Miss Newton’s promise to be his bride.
The words hung on his lips but yet Hugh could not say them. There was still Lord Donoghue to consider. He had every right to propose to Miss Newton first, before Hugh could do so. This had to be Miss Newton’s choice. It could not be something he forced onto her.
“Here we are,” Miss Newton exclaimed, rounding the corner into a long line of books. “It is just as well we let the maid wait by the entrance for she might have become lost!”
Hugh chuckled, slowly becoming aware of just how alone they both were. “It is something of a maze, I grant you.” He watched as Miss Newton took down one book after the other, leaning on one of the shelves as he did so. “Tell me, Miss Newton, what is it about these books that you enjoy so much?”
She looked up, her expression growing thoughtful. “I suppose it is because it is a story that takes you away from your own world. I love to read about the heroines, wondering what I would do and waiting with anticipation to discover what it is they will choose.”
“The heroines?” Hugh queried, one eyebrow raised. “Are they not often just there to be rescued by the hero?”
For a moment, Miss Newton looked offended, making Hugh grin, but she soon shook her head at him, as though realizing he was jesting. “No, indeed not all of them. Some, I grant you, often do nothing more than wait for the gentlemen, but I do not care for them. One day, should I have any daughters, I think I shall name them after the wonderful heroines in my favorite books.” Her gaze grew almost dreamy, as though she were lost in thought about a future she might one day have.
“Then I hope you shall find a husband who will allow you to do so,” Hugh murmured, softly, taking a step closer to her. “Miss Newton – Molly – I….” He was not sure what he was trying to say, suddenly overwhelmed by both her nearness and the awareness of their solitude.
Her throat worked, her e
yes still on his. There was something between them, something that was quietly beginning to beg to be fulfilled, but Hugh did not take another step forward. That had to be Miss Newton’s doing. He would not rush this, even though he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms.
“Lord Seaworth,” Miss Newton replied, throatily. “I think it might be best if we went in search of some history books. I am short of them in my reading list.”
Hugh expected the moment to shatter but it did not. Miss Newton did not move, despite her words, and he kept himself exactly where he was. It was as though she both wanted to leave his side and to remain there, battling within herself to come to a decision.
And then she stepped closer, setting the books in her hand on the shelf.
“Molly.”
His word was both a plea and a promise, one hand reaching to cup her chin lightly. She jumped but did not turn away, her face still towards his. With as much gentleness as he could muster, Hugh brushed her lips with his own, just the once, before lifting his head.
Fire roared to life within him, a roaring lion desperate for more – but he did not give in to it. Miss Newton had her eyes closed still, and as they slowly opened, Hugh stepped back and let his hand drop to his side. There was more that they could share, more that he was willing to give but yet he knew he could not. Not here. Not now. It would neither be fair nor right.
“Seaworth,” Miss Newton whispered, dropping the formality from his title for the first time. “I….” Her voice drifted away, her lips pressing together as though she wanted to be certain that their kiss had actually just occurred.
“Shall we go to the history section?” he asked, holding out his arm to her. “You are to further your reading in that area, I think.”
She blinked up at him for a few moments before nodding, her cheeks slowly burning scarlet. Taking his arm again, Hugh walked with her quietly, keeping his conversation to himself. There was nothing that needed to be said about what had occurred between them, but Hugh could not help but feel delighted that she had reacted to him in such a way. She had not stepped back, not slapped him full in the face nor let any words of reproof come from her lips. To him, that meant that she was not immune to him, that there was something within her that responded to him.
“What time in history?” he asked, trying to make conversation between them once more. “Anything particular or just in general?”
Miss Newton looked up at him, a shy smile on her face. “I am not sure, Seaworth. Perhaps this is something you might be able to educate me in, the same way that I helped you with your novels.”
Hugh grinned, patting her hand. “I would be delighted, Miss Newton. Thoroughly delighted.”
Chapter Twenty
Molly smiled as Lord Donoghue held out his arm to her, despite the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Good afternoon Miss Newton,” he exclaimed, as she took it. “Are you ready for our drive to the park today?”
“Yes, indeed,” Molly replied, as he walked her towards his phaeton, “it is a beautiful day for it.”
He nodded and helped her up. “The fashionable hour will only just be beginning by the time we arrive at Hyde Park,” Lord Donoghue continued, sitting up next to her. “Now, shall we go?”
Nodding, Molly could not help but look back at the house, glancing up towards the windows and, to her surprise, seeing Lord Seaworth standing there. He was watching them both, one hand lifted in farewell as their eyes met.
There was no smile on his face, no expression of delight at seeing her with Lord Donoghue, and Molly was suddenly overcome with the desire to return to the house and leave Lord Donoghue behind.
She was being quite ridiculous of course, and with an effort turned her face away, back towards Lord Donoghue who was watching her carefully. With a smile, he pulled on the reins and they were off.
The park was full of gentlemen and ladies of the beau monde, already arrived for the fashionable hour. It was a chance to be seen as well as to watch for those who might be of interest, but Molly found herself inwardly recoiling from it all.
“Your ball is in a week’s time, is it not?” Lord Donoghue asked, as the phaeton made its way slowly along the path. “Almost everyone here will be talking of it, I am sure.” He turned to Molly with a slight gleam in his eye. “I am sure it will be a wonderful occasion.”
“Yes, I am looking forward to it very much,” Molly replied, suddenly wondering why she felt so ill at ease with Lord Donoghue. “Although I am not certain I shall like being the center of attention.”
Lord Donoghue chuckled. “Nonsense, my dear Miss Newton. Every lady likes being known and watched by others.”
“I do not,” Molly replied, firmly, wondering if Lord Donoghue truly knew her at all. “As you know, whilst I enjoy dancing I am not particularly inclined to be noticed by others.”
He laughed again, making her frown. “You cannot mean to tell me that you still prefer a book over engaging with the ton?” he asked, sounding surprised. “I am certain that cannot be the case. Once you wed, I am sure that you will often wish to return to London to engage with others in society instead of remaining, year long, at the country estate of your husband. Is that not so?”
Shaking her head, Molly turned away from Lord Donoghue, her hands now lacing tightly in her lap. “Indeed, you are quite mistaken Lord Donoghue,” she said firmly. “Whilst I am very much enjoying my time in London, I will be more than content to remain at whatever estate I call home. So long as it has an extensive library.” Trying to smile at him, Molly was disconcerted to see him frown at her in response, his eyes glazing over a little in confusion.
“After all,” Molly continued quietly, “did you not tell me just how much you enjoy reading also? We have been to the London library together, and I was certain of your interest.”
Lord Donoghue shrugged. “I enjoy reading, yes, but it is nothing compared to society. Indeed, I should prefer not to read at all than to miss out on what society has to offer.” He looked over at her and smiled, reaching over to take her hand for a moment. “I am quite sure that, in time, you will come to see things the same way.”
Molly wanted to tug her hand away from his at once, growing a little angry at how trite he was being with her. She had spent a great deal of time with Lord Donoghue over the last few weeks, but this was the first time they had ever really disagreed on something. He clearly enjoyed society, as did she for the most part, but it seemed that he found more pleasure in it than anything else. Molly’s mind went back to the evenings she so recently had spent reading quietly in the library, often with the company of Lord Seaworth. He had been honest with her in his lack of desire to lose himself in a novel, but to her delight, had been trying to rekindle a love for books which he had told her had once been there. She had no cause to doubt him in that regard and had been grateful for his willingness to do such a thing. It was his way of trying to come alongside her, to show her that they could have a shared enjoyment in something, and for the first time, Molly felt a huge swell of appreciation and gratefulness for his consideration of her.
As the afternoon passed, Molly found herself longing, more and more, to return back to Lord Seaworth’s home. This was not her place she knew, not standing here by Lord Donoghue. Whilst they were friends, there was nothing there that drew fire into her veins, nothing that made her yearn for his presence. Despite his pursuit of her, Molly could not share the same passion that seemed so evident in Lord Donoghue.
Her mind was made up.
There would be no more courting from Lord Donoghue, no chance that they might one day wed and have a future together. He was a kind man but not the gentleman that would take his place as her husband.
Unbidden, her thoughts turned back to Lord Seaworth, her mind coming alive as she recalled how he had kissed her in the large London library. Her skin prickled as the memory of the brush of his lips against hers burst forth, making her blush despite herself.
Her heart was no
t filled with Lord Donoghue. It was filled with Lord Seaworth. She did not want to think of another, could not think of another. She had continued to allow Lord Donoghue to court her simply because she had not been able to decide between practicality and her heart but now the decision became completely clear in her mind. A marriage of practicality meant an absence of passion, an absence of affection and love. Whilst it appeared to be the choice of a great number of the ton, Molly was certain it could not be for her.
Now came the unfortunate task of having to say such a thing to Lord Donoghue. Her stomach clenched with sudden nerves as she thought of what she was going to have to say, of how she was going to explain herself to him. It would not be easy, and, in fact, it might be somewhat unpleasant, but Molly knew it had to be done. There could be nothing between herself and Lord Donoghue any longer.
“Miss Newton?”
Turning her attention back to Lord Donoghue, Molly tried her smile as he studied her carefully. Realizing that she had not been part of the conversation for some minutes, Molly grew embarrassed. “I do apologize, Lord Donoghue. Were you saying something?”
“I was asking you if you would like to go for a short walk around the park,” he said, offering her his arm. “There are so many people to see.”
Molly hesitated, drawing in a long breath in an attempt to find some courage of her own. “Lord Donoghue, might you return me back home?”
“Back home?” he repeated, now frowning in confusion. “Why ever should you wish to return now? We have only just arrived.”
Aware that she could not simply tell him that she had no intention of allowing him to court her any longer whilst standing in the middle of Hyde Park, Molly scrambled to think of another reason. “I am just a little fatigued.”
“Then sit for a while,” he suggested, gesturing to some of the other ladies who were sitting nearby on large blankets. “There is plenty of space, I am sure.”
“No, thank you,” Molly answered, firmly. “I wish to return home.”
