by Lavinia Kent
“I can’t think of a single thing. I was found in a bad part of London, by myself, in the wee hours of the morning. Do not those facts speak for themselves?”
“Don’t be witty with me. I was in an extremely pleasant mood this morning before my coach was suddenly forced to come rocking to a halt because some crazed young woman was running into the street. I am no longer in a good humor. And you forgot to mention that your gown was improperly fastened. Surely that is an important element of the story.”
“I hardly see that it matters.” Bliss didn’t know whether to cry or scream. Her emotions were whirling about her in an uncontrollable wind. And how did Lady Perse know about her gown? It was hidden beneath the cloak.
“It always matters. Perhaps you were sleepwalking and so no maid was present to help you dress?”
“Now it is you who is attempting to be witty, my lady. If I were to even attempt such a claim surely one would question how I made it across London with my virtue still intact and my purse still in my pocket.”
“Is it?”
“Do you refer to my virtue or my purse?” Bliss stared down at her hands, which lay pale and trembling in her lap, expressing all the feelings that she fought so hard to contain.
“I hadn’t really considered which I meant. Let’s start with your purse. Do you actually still have it? And does that dress even have a pocket? It’s hard to imagine one tied beneath such thin fabric.”
It was hard to mistake that Lady Perse thought the fabric much too thin. “No, I don’t have a pocket and I did not bring a purse this evening. I never expected to need one.”
“You assumed your companion would take care of everything—and I suppose he would.” Lady Perse spoke calmly, a single finger tapping on the wall of the coach.
“I suppose. I did not put thought into the matter.” It would have been silly to deny that at some point in the evening she’d had a companion. She would just not reveal who on pain of torture—something she imagined she had some experience with this evening. “But yes, I did not think because I felt well taken care of.”
“That is good to know.” Lady Perse gave a mysterious grin of satisfaction. “Although a woman should always have some funds about her. A coin tucked into a shoe”—she glanced down at Bliss’s thin slippers—“or some other spot. There is always someplace. A woman must always be prepared to take care of herself.”
Bliss wasn’t sure that there was a single spot upon her that a coin would have remained lodged, but she did not argue. “I do not disagree, my lady, and on most instances I do try to comply.”
Lady Perse nodded. “And now for your virtue.”
That was not a turn of conversation that Bliss wished to pursue, but she saw no way to avoid it. “Would you believe me if I told you that yes, it was intact?”
Again that strange look of consideration passed over Lady Perse’s face. “I might. Although I would admit that circumstance is against you.”
“That I cannot deny.”
“I suppose it would depend on who you were with this evening and what you were doing.” It was said as a statement, but the question was unmistakable.
“I will not say, and something foolish. That I cannot deny.”
“Normally I might find discretion admirable, but surely you must see that confession is your only hope.”
“My only hope of what?” She raised her head and stared directly at Lady Perse.
“What do you hope for?”
What did she hope for? And when had she last considered the question? “I don’t know.”
“You have told me that you don’t actually wish to marry and that if you do you do not wish it to be for love. Has this changed? Is this still what you hope for?”
She froze. “I—I don’t know.” She was beginning to sound like an idiot and yet she spoke only the truth. Her thoughts had begun to shift when faced with danger, but how did she feel now? How would she feel in the morning light?
“If you do not wish to marry it would be a simple matter to let some hint of this night leak to society, just a sprinkling of gossip, an innuendo, not enough to force you from society, but enough to ensure that no acceptable offers would be forthcoming. You could retire to your father’s estates and only reappear as the maiden aunt with too many cats and a fondness for trifle.”
She’d been afraid of just such an ending earlier. It should have been what she wanted, but her heart did not leap at the prospect. Instead it plummeted, the thought as terrifying as anything that had happened that evening. “I don’t wish to be ruined, to bring my family scandal.”
“Nonsense. You are a Danser. You were made for scandal—and I am not talking about actual ruin, just enough to make people unsure. Gossip can be managed if one is careful.”
It sounded like a very fine line to Bliss, and yet she knew that a month or two ago she would have been very willing to walk it. She always had liked the circus. “I am not sure.”
“You are beginning to wear my patience. You must be sure of something.”
What was she sure of?
Stephan.
The name filled her mind.
She was sure of him. She was sure that, despite the later events of the night, it had been one of the best evenings of her life, that Stephan had taken her places she’d never dreamed possible. She was sure that he did care for her, did want the best for her, that he would do whatever was necessary to give her the life she wanted. She trusted that. She trusted him.
She trusted him.
She finally said the words, if only to herself.
She trusted him.
If ever there was a moment that she should find him wanting, this was it. He had not rescued her; for all she knew he had abandoned her. The hero in storybooks never left the princess to rescue herself. He always appeared atop his glowing steed ready for battle. Stephan had not appeared. She had needed him and he had not appeared.
She should feel betrayed by him; he had failed her.
Her belief that love was not the answer held true.
The princess had rescued herself.
And yet, she trusted him. She trusted Stephan. If he had not rescued her it was only because she’d accomplished it first.
He would have come for her. And he would have wanted her no matter what. He would never have left her.
He would never have left her.
He would never leave her.
She trusted him.
But what did that mean? She’d agreed to marry him. Had it not merely been an uncontrollable spurt of passion? Had she actually meant it?
She was beginning to fear she had—and not just as a reflection of the night’s fears. But she could not say that to Lady Perse. Lady Perse had made it very clear that she wanted Bliss to stay far away from Duldon. “Perhaps I am now willing to consider marriage. It is perhaps not as dreadful as I feared.”
“I was beginning to wonder what you were thinking about, child.” Was that a smile that played about Lady Perse’s cheeks? It was hard to tell. Lady Perse continued to stare across at her. “And love? How do you feel about love?”
She couldn’t say “I don’t know” again. “I am still waiting to see about that.”
“But you do not rule it out?” The question was not asked lightly.
“No, I do not.” Bliss spoke the words so quietly it was hard to be sure she had spoken out loud.
Lady Perse nodded. Whether she had heard or not, she had understood.
“Then we had best get you home. My home, I think. You can send a note to your family saying that you came calling upon me late and decided to stay.”
“But…”
“Nobody will question me, they never do.”
There was very little that Bliss could say to that. “But why are you doing this for me? A week ago you seemed not to like me at all.”
“I have always liked you. I do like a girl who shows some spirit.”
“But you…?”
“Never mind what I did. I may have
been mistaken about something and I do not often admit that. I begin to think that everything may just work out quite wonderfully and with very little meddling on my part.”
“But…”
“No buts. Come home. Sleep. And let things happen as they may.”
Bliss believed Lady Perse really meant “and let things happen as I arrange them,” but she held her tongue. “But what of Duldon?”
“Yes, what of Duldon?” was Lady Perse’s only answer.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Where is she?” Duldon asked.
His aunt looked up from her cup of tea. “I am not sure to whom you refer.”
Duldon glared at his aunt.
Her expression did not change.
“Where is she?” he repeated.
No response.
“Where is Bliss?”
“Lady Bliss? Have you called at her father’s house? I am sure somebody there would know.” She sipped her tea.
He let out a long sigh. “Must we play this game?”
Lady Perse’s lip twitched. “I really think you should try the duke’s home.”
“She has left then.”
“All I am saying is that I believe she is home. If I knew more than that I might be expected to ask questions. Questions I do not believe you would answer—and that if you did I would probably faint dead away.”
He doubted his aunt had ever fainted. “Is that what this is about? You are trying to show me how aggravating it is to not get a straight answer? Let me ask you a question. What were you doing riding about Town before the sun had even risen?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. But if I did know, I would probably tell you that it did not concern you anyway. I do have my own life.” Another sip of tea.
He slid into the chair across from her and slouched down. His aunt looked him up and down, but did not comment. “Is she still trying to run from me?” he asked after a moment.
“I do not know who you are talking about. It cannot be Lady Bliss. You would not have been with her at such an hour, not out alone. And if it was Lady Bliss, why would she run from you?”
Now that was a tricky question. He clearly could not describe the events of the night to her. “She might finally have agreed to marry me. I am not sure that she is comfortable with the idea.”
His aunt scoffed. “Does she think you will forget if she simply avoids you?”
“I think she is hoping that I will not push the matter.”
“That I can believe. The girl does have some curious ideas. So what will you do?”
“I will hold her to her promise. I do not believe she will cry off. I think marriage is what she wants. She is merely afraid.”
His aunt put down her tea and gazed at him intently. “Is she truly what you want, my boy? I have always wanted the best for you. I was quite certain that Lady Bliss was not the best, but perhaps I was missing something crucial. Does she make you happy, fill the empty hollows of your soul?”
She’d not called him a boy in almost a decade—and they’d certainly never talked about souls. He’d not believed his aunt had a romantic bone in her body, despite her talent for love matches. “Yes.” He had no question about that.
“I thought you wanted only the land that came with her.”
“Land?” Ahh, he didn’t know how that excuse had gotten out. “No, I’d take her with nothing but her skin.”
“Yes, you do seem to like all that white skin,” his aunt mumbled.
She could not mean what she hinted. “It does go well with her blond hair.”
Had Lady Perse actually snorted? “I do hope you know what you are doing, but it begins to seem that you actually might.”
For the first time all day he smiled. “Now if only I can convince Miss Danser of that fact.”
—
Bliss sat in the parlor in her prettiest day dress. It was still quite early for a call, but she knew Stephan would not let propriety delay him. Her hair lay smooth and polished; only a single perfect curl decorated one cheek. The soft blue of the dress matched her eyes and highlighted the pink of her cheeks. The dress had a slightly higher neckline than she might have chosen, but it did cover all of the marks of the night before. It was probably best that Stephan not see the long scratch that Temple had left upon her. His anger at her torn bodice had convinced her it was best that some things remain hidden.
She hadn’t slept at all going over and over the events of the night in her head. She’d remembered the glory—and the fear. No matter how she tried to push it away, the memory of those moments of terror threatened to swallow her. Her hands still shook when she remembered the look on Lord Temple’s face before he’d left the room, but then her hands turned to fists. She had defeated him, and done it on her own. She might have longed for Stephan to rescue her, but there was great satisfaction of having taken care of the cretin by herself.
She granted herself a brief fantasy of calling him out at dawn. She was quite a good shot and she knew just where she’d aim.
The clock in the hall chimed.
She glanced down at her slippered feet, her toes tapping impatiently on the floor.
Where was the man? Where was Stephan?
It was no use pretending that she was not sitting here waiting for him. She might still be uncertain of her own feelings, but she realized she had no doubt of his. He would come. He would not have been pleased that she had fled their bed and he would be coming to collect what he believed was his due.
She swallowed.
She had made a promise and while it would certainly be possible to pretend that duress had been involved, she knew deep in her heart she had made that promise with all sincerity. She had promised herself to him. And she lived up to her promises.
This time she gulped.
Was she really ready to take that risk? Was she ready to commit to a man, to Stephan?
No, she was not, but she had jumped anyway.
And having given her word she would keep it.
The door swung open and he stalked in, not waiting for the porter to announce him.
Her first thought was relief, her second fear. Oh dear, he was angry, very angry. She had rather been afraid that he might be.
“Good morning, Stephan,” she said, attempting a bright smile.
He stopped, her use of his name evidently throwing him off balance.
“Bliss,” he replied, and then stopped.
She smiled on bravely.
“I did not think you would be here,” he said after a moment.
“I was not sure I would be either. I did think of returning to Risusgate. I am not sure what to say to you this morning.”
“I would have followed you.” He took a step toward her.
“I know. It’s why I did not flee. I might enjoy a good chase, but we do have things that must be said between us.”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Yes?”
“That is what this is about, is it not? Yes.”
His eyes flashed. “You are still saying yes?”
She dropped her eyes to her lap. “Yes,” she breathed, and did not look up, her bravery used up in that one word.
There was not a single sound in the room, not the tick of a clock, the whistle of wind on the window, not a maid’s step in the hall—and not a single breath or swallow.
Finally she heard him take a few steps, heard him sink onto the settee across from her. “Then why did you leave last night?”
“I’ve already said ‘I don’t know’ too many times today, but I have no true explanation. I can say I was afraid or that I needed time to think, but it is far more complicated than that.”
“Do you wish me to let it rest with that?” His voice was calm, with no pressure behind it. His anger had faded with her answer.
She had not expected such a gift. “Is that possible? I know that at some point the words will come, but I do not have them now.”
Anot
her moment of silence.
She could feel his tension, but knew not the cause, if he was willing to let the issue of marriage rest for now.
“Tell me about Lord Temple,” he said at last, and she felt her innards twist.
“What is there to say?” If she could not shoot Temple, then she never wanted to think of him again, never wanted to be forced to remember those minutes of fear.
“He had quite a lot to say.”
She did not even want to begin to imagine what Temple might have said of her. “He seems to be mistaken on a number of issues.”
“Is that how you explain it?”
She closed her eyes, staring at the slight glow of light that seeped through the lids. “Do I have to explain it?”
“Is he the one who ripped your dress at the Milburnes’?” he growled, and not the low growl of promise she’d heard so often the night before.
“Does it matter? I told you that night I did not wish to discuss it. There is nothing to be done now.” If only he would let it go. She did not want to imagine what would happen if Stephan found out what Temple had done. She didn’t care what happened to Temple, but she did not want Stephan to take risks for her. It was over.
“You must tell me if it matters. After last night I rather think it does. What exactly did Temple do to you?”
“In the end, very little happened. It truly does not matter now.” At least she prayed it did not. Please, just let it go away.
“Did he rape you? Should I have done more than bloody his nose and left him to be swept up with the trash?”
She opened her eyes and stared out at the world. “No. He did not rape me. And did you really bloody his nose?” A feeling of warmth and protection spread through her.
“Yes, and I’d have ripped him limb from limb, or at least broken a few bones, if I’d known that he’d actually touched you.” His eyes shown with menace.
“That truly was not necessary.” Although it might have been very nice. She doubted she’d ever forget the panic she’d felt as Temple tightened the cuffs about her wrists. If she could not shoot him, then she was glad that Stephan had beaten him. She could only hope he’d ended the evening a bloody pulp.
