Secrets of a Spinster
Page 27
“…is a sweet girl who is madly in love with someone else and needed a friend. She has no more interest in me than I in her.” He gave her a soft smile that made it impossible to disbelieve him. In fact, it made her fall even more in love with him.
Could it be possible? Could he really have meant everything he had said to her? All of those things she felt… could it have been real?
He took pity on her, closing the distance so that there were only a few feet separating them. “Mary, you know me. I am no flirt, I’m not a rogue, I couldn’t care less about Society and reputations, and I loathe consorting with husband hunters. I could never say such things merely to say them. I meant them for you.” He stepped closer, his expression earnest.
Her heart fluttered in spite of herself. “Geoff,” she said softly.
“I have no expectations,” he told her quietly. “I’m not asking for anything. I just…” He trailed off uncertainly, his eyes searching hers.
“Just what?”
He sighed softly. “I love you.”
She blinked slowly, sure she had heard him wrong. “You… what?”
“I love you, Mary.”
Her knees, so unsteady under pressure, gave way completely and she grabbed at her bedpost. “You… love me?”
“I do,” he said simply.
She shook her head. No, it was not possible. She loved him. And he felt nothing. That was how this worked, how it had always worked. But he sounded so sure, so calm. Perhaps she could forgive him for being stupid at the masquerade, but that didn’t mean that he could just say these things to her. Didn’t he know what it cost her to even listen?
He said her name softly, but she couldn’t look at him.
“Mary,” he murmured again, “I love you.”
She bit back a gasp and looked at him in disbelief. “Why now, Geoffrey?” she asked, not bothering to keep the quiver out of her voice. “After all of these years, why now?”
He shook his head and shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. That is the most maddening part of this whole affair. How long? I don’t know. Why now? I don’t know. When? I don’t know. All I know is that I love you, Mary Hamilton, and all I want is for you to give me a chance.”
A chance? She almost laughed, except she failed to find the humor. Her heart ached with his words, her mind raced with her doubts, and her hands clenched the bedpost more tightly to keep her upright. “I don’t know if I can believe you,” she whispered. “With all that we have been through this season, how can I believe what you are saying?”
He nodded in understanding. “Would you believe that I come to town just for you? That I have for years?”
Her eyes widened and her breath caught. “That’s not possible,” she managed.
“It‘s the truth,” he assured her in soft, warm tones. “You know me, Mary. You know I hate Society and balls and parties and clubs and theater. I detest London and everything about it. You know that. But every season, I come. I ask myself why, and the answer is simple; I come because you are here.” He shook his head and came closer until he was so close to her that she could feel the warmth of his body. “And I always have, and always will, want to come just to be with you.” He cupped her cheek in one hand and stroked it softly with his thumb. “It’s all the reason I will ever need.”
She couldn’t believe him. She couldn’t…
“Mary,” he whispered, looking into her eyes with such tenderness her heart nearly burst. “I love you. I have been in love with you for years, I was just too blind to see it. I want to be with you today and tomorrow and every day after. And unless you tell me otherwise, I am going to kiss you now, because I cannot bear not to anymore.”
She would never breathe normally again. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and her lips parted of their own accord.
He leaned in, stroking her cheek softly once more, and then pressed his lips to hers. Soft and sweet, his lips caressed hers, more perfect and magical than even her most vivid imaginations. It seared her soul as if he had branded her with his passion, simmering so near the surface. She was his. She would always be his.
He loved her. She could feel it, could taste it, and she wanted it.
Before she could arch up for more, encourage him, or make any sort of sound, he pulled back, as breathless as she was. He touched his forehead to hers, still cupping her cheek in his hand. “Think about it, Mary. I love you. I want… all I want is you.” He sighed, pressed his lips to hers once more, and left the room quickly, as if he couldn’t bear another minute.
Slowly, very slowly, thought and sense and feeling returned to her. She stared out of the open doorway, ignoring the splintered wood around the locking mechanism, ignoring the crooked manner in which the door hung against the wall, ignoring everything.
Geoffrey Harris had kissed her. Had professed his love for her. Wanted her.
She gasped a shuddering, body-shaking gasp and sank to the chest at the foot of her bed with a sharp thud.
Heavens above. What had just happened?
Chapter Twenty Four
“What did Geoffrey want?”
Mary blinked slowly and looked back at the doorway. “Pardon?”
Cassie’s brows rose with interest. “What did Geoff want? For once, I didn’t eavesdrop, so I really have no idea what went on up here.” She looked at the door for a long moment, but didn’t comment as she looked back at her.
Mary swallowed and shook her head, trying to diminish the fog that had formed. “Don’t pretend that you had nothing to do with it,” she scolded, trying to sound firm. “I know you sent for him.”
“I didn’t,” Cassie insisted, shaking her head quickly.
Mary gave her a look. “You did so. You disapprove of my behavior and sent for him. I know you, Cassie.”
“No, Mary,” Cassandra said again, growing very serious. “I didn’t. I have been vigilant in keeping him from coming inside the last three days. I’ve taken all of his notes and kept them from you, as you requested, and not said a thing about it.”
Mary hummed in disbelief. “Yet he came.”
“Winston answered the door, and I didn’t get to him fast enough. But Simon and I tried to stop Geoff from coming up. I told him you weren’t receiving, not even for him. We stood in the stairwell and barred him entry.”
That surprised her. “You did?”
Her sister met her eyes and sighed. “He threatened me, Mary. Geoffrey Harris, undoubtedly the sweetest and most gentleman-like man in England, threatened me. And he threatened Simon, who is larger and stronger, I daresay. And I can see he broke your door,” she said with a flick of her wrist.
Mary looked at the door again.
“I think he wanted to see you, Mary,” Cassandra said unnecessarily. “At any cost.”
Unbidden tears sprang into her eyes and she clamped her lips together. She glanced back at her sister, who smiled softly at her tears.
“Have you… have you refused Colin’s party tonight?” Mary managed to squeak out.
Cassie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “No, of course not. We must see what his ballroom can accommodate for our engagement party, so of course Simon and I are…”
“I mean for me,” Mary interrupted gently, allowing a smile to cross her lips. “Have you refused for me?”
Now Cassie grinned broadly. “No. No, I have not.”
“Good.” Mary sniffed back the last of her tears. “I’ll need you to help me get ready, Cassie. I have something very important to attend to.”
Her sister’s grin turned positively fiendish, and right away they went to work.
It was several hours before they were able to depart for Colin’s party, but she was satisfied that it would be well worth it. She had chosen to wear the one gown he had insisted she get; the dark blue that shimmered like the night sky. She had already worn it this season, which would undoubtedly scandalize those who thought she had been permanently transformed into one of the more extravagant debutantes of Society. She didn’t care.
That had been the first instance where she had seen something other than friendship in his eyes. Now that she knew he loved her, she wanted to see that look again.
The carriage ride was unbearably long. She didn’t live far from Colin Gerrard, but when one was as popular amongst society as he was, the sheer volume of guests in attendance was astounding. The line of carriages hardly seemed to move at all. It didn’t help that her heart raced so fast that she thought she’d faint.
She fidgeted with her hair, which was more intricate and elaborate than any style she had attempted yet, and felt as though it might all tumble down at any moment. She had been repeatedly assured that it wouldn’t; that it was, in fact, very secure, and beyond that, quite becoming on her. She was not so sure, but she was willing to trust that her sister would not let her make a fool of herself on such an important occasion.
There was nothing Cassie appreciated more than a stunning entry and the reputation to sustain it.
Mary didn’t care about either of those things. She just wanted to see Geoff.
The entire afternoon she had been an absolute mess, fluttering between ebullient joy and helpless tears of disbelief. And she hadn’t even spoken with Geoff yet. He didn’t know her feelings. He might have suspected, given her reaction to his words and his kiss, but he hadn’t let her respond.
And she very much wanted to respond.
At long last, she was in the ballroom with the rest of London. It really was a stunning room, and would definitely suit a party given for her sister. Grand steps led the way down from the doorway onto the dance floor itself with fine balconies overlooking the dancing. All railings were congested, as no sensible person wanted to be among the first dancers. Yet dancing was occurring, and it was plain to see that the party was well under way.
She had to find Geoff, but in this crush, she couldn’t even find Colin and he was the host.
She released an irritated sigh and looked longingly towards the wall where she would have situated herself only months before. But she had promised Geoff that she would enjoy the rest of the season, and she would live up to it. She made her way down the stairs to the dance floor, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for one of her former admirers to ask her for a dance. She prayed it would be one she could tolerate.
“Miss Hamilton.”
She smiled, not bothering to hide her relief as Thomas Granger approached. “Mr. Granger. I hope you are here to ask for a dance.”
“I am indeed.” He bowed smartly before her, returning her smile and holding out a hand for her.
She took it and curtseyed. “Then lead the way, good sir.”
He took her to the head of the line of couples just as the music was beginning again, and soon they were dancing with the rest. Mary hoped Geoff would be here soon. She wasn’t sure how long she could wait.
She smiled at Mr. Granger as she passed him, and plotted how she could discover his true feelings for Lily Arden. Or perhaps she could plant a seed…
Mary laughed merrily as she completed yet another turn of the jig. She was dancing with Lord Oliver now, and he had always been one of her favorite dance partners. He was a lively and entertaining dancer, and never presumed, which was a refreshing change from some of the others.
This was her fifth dance in a row, and still she hadn’t seen Geoffrey. She’d tried to look for him as best as she could, but it was proving difficult with the sheer volume of guests in attendance and the movements of the dancing were not particularly conducive to looking. Still, she was enjoying herself now that the majority of her more ridiculous suitors had moved on to other ladies.
Lord Oliver himself had joined the pursuit for Miss Catherine Blythe, just returned from her tour of Switzerland. Mary didn’t know her, but hoped the girl was ready for the onslaught of admirers.
As she waited for her turn in the next movement, she took the opportunity to look up at the balconies and guests at the rails on the landing. All were filled with various members of Society, some who watched the dancing, others merely conversing while fluttering their fans. It was amusing to watch even from this distance.
Her eyes suddenly clashed with a very familiar pair of blue ones, and her heart leapt into her throat. He was on the landing, standing alone, watching her. Only her.
He didn’t flinch or look away when she stared back. He didn’t move a single muscle.
She nearly missed the next movement of the dance so entranced was she by his expression and intensity. She continued to dance, looking back up at him as often as she could. He watched with all the steadiness of a hawk and looked just as predatory.
What was he thinking? How did he feel? Could he possibly be angry with her for not seeking him out? For dancing with other men? His expression was impossible to translate, even for one as fluent in all things him as she was.
She turned and twirled and hopped as the dance required, but always her eyes returned to him, wanting him to indicate something, anything to her. A wink, a smile, a frown, any show of emotion to indicate where she stood with him at this moment. He loved her, he’d said as much, but she knew full well what a torment of emotion that alone brought.
When the dance was over, she would tell him everything. Absolutely everything.
Again she met his eyes, and this time, she held his gaze even through the dance. Her heart pounded so hard against her chest she couldn’t breathe. But she would keep watching him, beg him to wait for her.
He pushed off of the balcony and began to move, keeping his eyes on her as he did so.
Where was he going?
She watched him walk, panic rising. What was he doing?
His eyes, so powerful even from this distance, held her captive, stared at her as he walked along the railings.
And then he was gone. He was lost in the crowd and she couldn’t see him. For what felt like ages she scanned the crowd, but she never saw him.
She couldn’t restrain a horrified gasp. He couldn’t have left!
Emotions welling within her, she fled the dancing, ignoring the other dancers and Lord Oliver. She weaved in and out of other couples, running as hard as she could for the stairs. She had to find him, had to tell him now, before anything else happened. She would embarrass herself in front of all of England and more to confess everything.
She pushed through people clogging the stairs and panted with her frantic exertions. People cried out in dismay at her behavior, but she ignored them all. She had to find him, she had to tell him, he had to know…
A sudden force stopped her on the stairs and nearly sent her tumbling. Strong hands gripped her arms to keep her steady, and she glanced up to find herself face to face with Geoffrey himself.
“Geoff!” she gasped in panicked relief, half of a sob, and more than a little breathless.
“Mary?” he asked in soft confusion, his eyes searching hers with concern.
She inhaled shakily, tears rising, wondering what to say. But looking into his eyes, seeing what he felt, words were meaningless. She swallowed and reached up to touch his jaw softly, her lower lip quivering.
He exhaled a soft sigh even as his eyes widened at her touch.
She couldn’t take it any longer.
She slid her hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him in, although who kissed whom first would be up for debate. He seized her lips instantly, and she was just as fierce. There was no holding back, no restraining the heat and desire and emotions rising and thriving between them. She poured every ounce of herself into this kiss, her lips molding and caressing as his were possessive and hungry. One of his hands gripped her hair and pulled her in impossibly closer, while the other reached around her back and supported her. She fisted her free hand in his coat and tugged him as close as she could. It wasn’t close enough.
Everything she had ever felt for him rose to the surface. There were no secrets any longer as love, passion, and need all burned like fire. This was no mere kiss; he was claiming her as she was claiming him, and it was long overdue for
them both.
The room vanished, time ceased to exist, and it seemed as if the music from the orchestra swirled around them, a symphony to their moment. It was too perfect, but she would take it. She would take eternities of such moments, such feelings, with him.
Someone very close to them cleared their throat rather loudly. “Begging your pardon,” Colin’s voice muttered, breaking the moment. He coughed politely, then said, “But the two of you need to disengage and come with me. Now.”
For a moment, they only stood there, suspended in the aftermath, foreheads touching, their breath mingling together.
Again, Colin cleared his throat. “Now.”
Slowly, very slowly, Mary pulled back. Then it occurred to her that there was no music playing. Not a single sound in the entire overcrowded ballroom. Every eye was fixed on them, and in just a quick glance, she saw shock, dismay, abject horror, and in some rare cases, unfettered delight.
She felt her cheeks flush immediately, but then Geoff slid his hand into hers and interlaced their fingers, giving her a gentle squeeze. She looked up into his face and saw that he was fighting laughter.
The same urge welled up in her, and she grinned at him. With a faint wink, he squeezed her hand again, the promise of things to come.
Obediently they followed Colin down the rest of the stairs and out of the ballroom, not meeting any eye but those of their friends, all of whom were either delighted or stunned or both. Mary faintly heard Colin’s brother Kit instruct the musicians to start up again, the room once more turned to a buzzing of conversation, and presumably, the dancing continued. They kept walking, however, Colin leading them and not saying a single word.
When they could no longer hear the music or the chatter from the room, Colin turned down an empty corridor. Only then did he turn and face them. His expression was vacant of any emotion.
“All right,” he said quietly, looking at them both, “if anybody asks, I was a perfect host and scolded you soundly for such a scandalous display in my home. And thereafter I was a perfect chaperone and never let the two of you out of my sight.” He turned to Geoff with the barest hint of a smile. “Geoff, I hereby rescind my proclamation where you are concerned. Consider yourself a roaring success.” He bowed smartly, then walked passed them back towards the ballroom.