Always the Wallflower (Never the Bride Book 5)

by Emily E K Murdoch

  “You are excused?” he said in a confused voice.

  “I am not a Miss Jones!” Miss Lymington looked outraged and did not concern herself with keeping her voice down. Faces turned to stare, and if she had thought it would cause him to shrink back, she was wrong.

  Edward grinned. This was the place he belonged, front and center with a beautiful woman before him.

  “My word, I am sorry, you must accept my apologies,” he said with a shrug. “I was certain you were…you are not Miss Jones?”

  Miss Lymington’s mouth fell open. “You are in earnest.”

  “Never more so,” lied Edward happily. God, this made him feel alive. “And you are…?”

  “You…you do not know who I am?” Miss Lymington said in horror.

  Edward looked her up and down, and muffled giggles emerged from the crowd gathered around them.

  “My dear lady,” he said slowly, raising his voice to ensure the crowd would hear him, “although you are a very pretty young thing, there are plenty of pretty young things in London. I cannot be expected to know the names of you all.”

  Raucous laughter erupted around the room. Edward did his best not to grin, but it was almost too much. He could not remember the last time he had had so much fun—God, it must have been what, that card party at the beginning of the Season?

  “Wynn, you dog!”

  “Give him a slap!”

  True, his cousin Axwick would hardly want his ball to become a public nuisance, but surely it was worth it to see such horror and shock on Miss Lymington’s face.

  It was time to take this woman down a peg or two. She had clearly enjoyed her own importance, and as he had no interest in bedding or wedding her, it would be a public service to whoever was hooked by her wealth and beauty next.

  “I am Miss Lymington,” she said, utterly incensed, “and I have some thirty thousand pounds, that is why you should know who I am!”

  Edward gasped and shook his head seriously, taking a step toward her. “Miss Lymington, shame on you! ’Tis very bad manners to be announcing one’s fortune to a crowd!”

  Before he allowed her to get a word into the conversation, Edward took another step toward her so that he could whisper into her ear.

  “And if you are not careful, Miss Lymington,” he murmured, his breath tickling her neck, “I shall have to teach you a lesson.”

  Miss Lymington stared, her cheeks still crimson, but her demeanor changed.

  “Why, my lord,” she said with a smile far more flirtatious than anything she had given to Marnmouth or any of the other gentlemen fawning over her minutes ago. “Will you indeed? I am not sure whether I am a quick learner.”

  Edward grinned. By God, he had been right; she was the closest thing a woman could be to a rake. If he did not have the presence of mind and a heart belonging to Letty, he would probably be in danger.

  “Then I will have to dedicate a serious amount of time to your study,” Edward said quietly without taking his eyes from her. “And I will have to punish you if necessary.”

  Scandalized gasps erupted around them, and Edward winked again before glancing at the crowd of people who had moved around them. Why should he not? He was breaking no rules, had made no promises, and by the looks of it, had only upset gentlemen too dull to catch Miss Lymington’s eye.

  His face froze. There, standing a foot behind Miss Lymington and with a look of horror on her face, close enough to catch every single word he had said, was Letty.

  “My word, sir,” Miss Lymington said with a giggle, hitting him once again with her fan, “you are truly the most—sir?”

  But Edward was not listening. His focus was on Letty, who had disappeared into the crowd.

  “Letitia!”

  Miss Lymington looked behind her curiously as the crowd stared.

  Letty had not stopped. She was now almost beyond his line of sight, the crush of Axwick’s guests swallowing her up.

  Could she not hear him? Edward felt panic rise in his throat as he pushed unceremoniously past Miss Lymington and stepped in Letty’s direction.

  It was a flirtatious jest, an innocent test of his charm and prowess—but in God’s name, he had never intended Letty to hear it. He had not wanted her to, and it was only now the horror in her eyes was seared across his own that he realized why.

  Damn his conscience, which had given him no warning. Damn his pride, which had wanted the confirmation that he still had the ability to make a woman go weak in the knees.

  “Wynn?”

  Braedon’s voice could be heard through the crowd, but Edward did not heed him.

  “Letitia!”

  Either she did not hear him, or she did not want to. Edward could not fight through the crowd quickly enough. Forcing himself into the hallway, he finally snapped.

  “Out of my way!”

  Lady Romeril glared. “Well, that is no way to speak to—”

  “Move!” Edward did not care if he offended half of society. It was Letitia who mattered to him, and if he was not wrong, he had made a terrible mistake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Uproar surrounded her, but Letitia could not hear it. People’s mouths were opening, but no sound reached her ears.

  All she could hear was her own anger.

  How—how could he do that?

  No, she must not think. Letitia pushed past another gentleman in her way. The door to the hallway was getting further away the more she pushed toward it.

  “Letitia—Letitia, what is wrong?” Harry’s voice cried, but Letitia could not stop and explain.

  How could she explain when she did not understand it herself? Edward, her Edward, had said those things—such things…

  No, she had to escape here before the tears fell. She had never cried in public before, and she would not start now.

  She was a Cavendish. Cavendishes did not fall apart in public. They did it in private.

  “Letitia!”

  That voice was different, and through the blurred mirage of the crowd, Letitia could make out Mariah Wynn trying to push her way toward her, with spectacles still on her nose.

  But Letitia did not want to speak with anyone. How would she even begin to articulate the betrayal in her heart, when the person who had committed the crime was a gentleman she barely knew?

  “And if you are not careful, Miss Lymington, I shall have to teach you a lesson.”

  Letitia hardened her heart. She had to leave this place.

  “Letitia!”

  It was Edward’s voice, but she did not allow herself to turn around. Let him shout after her, let him feel even a portion of the pain she was feeling right now. He had said those words to a woman he had evidently just met.

  And she had been standing right there. How had he not seen her? How many other women had he spoken to like that? How many since she had handed over to him the most vulnerable part of her? When she had lost her innocence, and perhaps her reputation to him?

  The hallway was even busier, the front door open, welcoming new guests.

  Only another few feet, and she would be free of this cloying sensation that everyone was staring.

  “My word, Lady Letitia!” A woman was walking towards her, and people melted out of her way—the hostess of the evening, Tabitha St. Maur, the Duchess of Axwick. “You look flushed, are you unwell?”

  “I wish to go home,” she said. “Please call me a carriage, Your Grace.”

  Tabitha looked at her closely but did not ask any questions. Glancing up, a footman melted out of the crowd and to her side.

  “A carriage for my friend, Lady Letitia Cavendish,” Tabitha said swiftly. “As quickly as you can. She needs to go home immediately.”

  The footman bowed, and Letitia felt a rush of gratitude to the woman who barely knew her.

  “Th-Thank you,” she managed.

  Tabitha squeezed her hand. “You are not the first, and you will not be the last. I hope the rest of your evening is restful, my lady.”

  And w
ith that, the hostess was gone.

  “Letitia!”

  She did not look back. She knew it was Edward. She would wait for the carriage and damn those who stared. Let them stare. She had done nothing wrong—and she was Lady Letitia Cavendish, after all.

  “Letitia, wait!”

  But she would not wait. What could he possibly have to say to her that could explain away his behavior?

  All she wanted to do was escape this terrible place and hide.

  “My lady,” bowed the footman as she reached the front door.

  “Her Grace has ordered me a carriage,” said Letitia a little breathlessly. “May I wait here with you until—oh!”

  A hand grabbed her arm. Edward had finally caught up with her.

  “Letty, I—”

  “Let go of me!” She wrenched her arm from his grip, and to the horror of the footman, ran down the steps and into the night.

  “Letty, I am sorry!”

  Letitia turned to face him. Edward stepped back.

  “You do not even know what you are apologizing for, so I would rather you stopped,” she said curtly. To her surprise, the instinct to cry had disappeared, and all that was left was anger. “How—how dare you treat me in that way! How dare you do it in front of me! Do you have no honor, sir?”

  Part of her wanted to hear his defense, to hear some sort of excuse that would wash away the sin of what he had done—but it was a small part of her.

  “I know my own way home, I have no need of a carriage,” she said abruptly. “Good evening, Viscount Wynn.”

  She started striding down the street.

  She should have known it simply would not work. Within a heartbeat, Edward was walking alongside her.

  “It was merely a jest, Letty—”

  “That is not what it looked like from where I was standing, your lordship,” Letitia said sharply, not taking her eyes from the pavement. “And it did not look like that to the Duke of Axwick’s guests, if I am any judge. Or Miss Lymington.”

  It was an effort to keep bitterness from her tone, but Letitia had the right. They had not formally announced anything, no one was to know what they were to each other, so she should not feel hatred towards Miss Lymington.

  But Edward? He knew exactly how she felt about him, how could he not? She had allowed him…they had shared something so special, so precious.

  Did he think she was happy to walk away from him, that it did not break her heart?

  Edward pulled on her arm. “It was a flirtation, Letty, that was all.”

  “I am not a total fool,” she snapped. Did he think her a complete innocent? “I did not expect it to be so blatant, so disgusting, and worst of all, with another woman!”

  It felt good to say these things, to almost shout them. Was this what it felt like to be everyone else? Unafraid to say how you really felt, feeling joy in speaking your mind?

  “I have spent my entire life attempting to blend in, hide in the background, be unnoticed by the world,” she said fiercely, pulling her arm from his grip and turning left onto another dark, quiet street. “I never thought that one day that skill would betray me. You did not even see me, Edward. You did not see me! Do not pretend that you did, for I shall be most offended, and—”

  “Letty, stop!” Edward finally managed to slow her to a halt. “You are upset, and I completely understand why, but we need to talk about it properly. Were you honestly going to walk all the way home? In the dark? Alone?”

  The last word seemed to echo. Letitia stared into Edward’s dark eyes, trying desperately not to allow her anger to disappear. She had to use it as a tool. As a weapon. Perhaps she would hurt him as he had hurt her.

  “I did not think I was alone,” she said finally. “Perhaps I am.”

  Edward dropped his gaze. “God’s teeth, Letty, the way you look at me…as though I am nothing, as though I am scum.”

  Letitia did not respond. He needed to feel this. If it was a pinch of what she felt, it was worth it. She loved him so much, and it was a wildly complicated feeling—the desire to be crushed into his arms, to be held by him, but also to make him feel the pain that was raging in her body and soul.

  “Look, I am not proud of it, but that…that way of speaking to women…” Edward looked at her with desperation. “Letitia, that has been a huge part of who I am for years—over a decade! Being a cad, flirting, jesting with a beautiful woman, it is not something one can simply switch off!”

  “I have changed for you,” Letitia said simply. Most of the anger had gone from her voice, but pain was still there. “I was a wallflower, too terrified to think of even speaking to a gentleman, and I changed for you.”

  Edward opened his mouth but then closed it again. There was a look of utter wretchedness on his face.

  She stepped forward. “I gave myself to you, Edward. I opened myself up to you, body and soul. I-I risked my reputation, lost my innocence. And you do not think it worth trying a little harder to stop flirting with other women?”

  “’Tis not as simple as that.”

  “It is,” Letitia said simply. “And if you cannot see that…”

  She did not want to say it. There was a carriage waiting outside the Axwicks’. Letitia turned to retrace her steps, and it was not until she had turned the corner back onto Axwick’s street that he appeared at her side again.

  “You do not understand—I have a reputation to uphold.”

  Letitia laughed bitterly. “I have risked my reputation for you, and on the promise that when I allowed you to bed me, it was more than that. It was because you loved me, and now I am starting to wonder, was that a lie?”

  Letitia did what she promised she would not do; she looked at him.

  Was this the moment he admitted he was in love with her, and only her?

  “I…I never actually said that I loved you, Letty, but—no, wait!”

  His words cut her more deeply than she thought possible.

  “How can you…” Letitia did not even know how to finish that sentence.

  They had reached the Axwick residence, and a footman had run down the steps to meet her.

  “Your carriage is almost ready, my lady.”

  Letitia nodded, and the servant disappeared with obvious relief.

  “You are running away.”

  Edward’s voice was laced with disappointment, but Letitia laughed bitterly.

  “Yes, from you.”

  “No, I meant from how you feel.”

  The sounds of a ball at its height poured from the open door. If only she could be in there, standing by the dancers like the wallflower she was, with Mariah by her side.

  “You have no idea how I feel, and if you did, or you cared about me in any way, you would not have spoken that way to Miss Lymington,” said Letitia quietly. “What if she thinks you care, that you have serious intentions for her?”

  Edward laughed, and Letitia’s heart squeezed painfully. He was so handsome, so unbearably charming. “Oh, Letty, she would have to be an idiot to think that.”

  “Like I was? Like I was an idiot to think that you would care for me?”

  “What—no!” Edward swore under his breath. “I—Letty, it is not like that!”

  But the damage had been done. She could see it all clearly now. She was just one in a long line of women that he had seduced, and she would certainly not be the last one. Perhaps it would be Miss Lymington next, perhaps someone else. It did not matter.

  “I should have known—”

  “Known what?” Edward cut in, taking a step toward her.

  Letitia took a deep breath and tried to ignore his heady scent. She could not give in. She had to break cleanly from him, remove his power over her. Otherwise, she would feel this pain for the rest of her life.

  “I should have known you were such a rake I could not trust you,” Letitia said quietly. “If matters had been reversed, you know what society would have called you? Not a rake, or a cad, which are masculine and delightful things. No, Edward, you
would be considered a harlot.”

  Edward’s mouth fell open in genuine surprise, and Letitia felt her cheeks burn to have such a word come from her mouth.

  But she could not help it. She had been a fool to think she could change him. Of all people to tame Edward, she was not the one to do it.

  “For the first time in my life, I am going to stand up for myself and what I think I am worth,” breathed Letitia, trying to keep her voice steady. “And I think I am worth more than this.”

  “You are,” said Edward eagerly.

  “When we made love, was the act itself not a promise for something deeper?”

  “Letty, my darling, I never promised anything, and we were never engaged.”

  The words did not make sense.

  Letitia swallowed. He did not seem to be teasing her, and there was no playfulness in his tone. Did he believe that they never had an understanding?

  She thought back wildly to that night.

  “I feel more passionately about you, Lady Letitia Cavendish, than anyone else I have ever met. I have bedded other women. I have not made love to them. I want to make love to you.”

  Try as she might, Letitia could not remember any words from that wonderful and now bittersweet night about an engagement.

  Letitia stared at Edward in horror. “Do you…do you think I would have let you—let you make love to me if I did not think you were serious in your intentions?”

  He swallowed. “I asked to make love to you, and…and you let me. At no point—”

  Letitia could not permit this to continue. “Please stop.”

  Anger bubbled up to the surface again, not at Edward but at herself. She was so furious with herself that she could barely think.

  How had she managed to get herself in this position? Was she so foolish to welcome a gentleman into her bed without any sort of assurance he wished to marry her? Had she been so intoxicated with his presence she had completely lost her mind and her maidenhead in the same evening?

  “Your carriage, my lady.” The footman appeared by her side.

  “Let me.” Edward stepped forward, hand outstretched to help her into the carriage, but Letitia did not need him.