But no. Lady Cavendish had never been close to her daughter. They were such different people; one, a socialite who had been the talk of the town when she had accepted the dashing Lord Cavendish; the other, a wallflower, who hated any thought of attention.
The last thing her parents would assume, Letitia thought as the three of them rattled down the streets of London in their carriage, was that their daughter’s heart was already broken.
Who would break it? Who would even consider her as a potential wife? She smiled.
“That’s the spirit,” her father said gruffly. “You will enjoy yourself when you get there, Letitia, and you may find yourself dancing with more than one young gentleman who pleases you.”
And pleases you, Letitia thought.
What if Edward was at Lady Howard’s ball?
She had not permitted the thought to cross her mind, but now it had, her heart skipped a beat painfully.
If Edward were there, it would be in search of another lady to seduce. How could she watch him do it again?
“Are you feeling quite well, Letitia?”
She was staring at her daughter with genuine concern, her forehead puckered into a frown.
“I am—I am quite well,” Letitia managed, instantly regretting her words. That had been the perfect opportunity to crave indulgence and return home, but before she had a chance to amend her response, the carriage came to a stop.
“We are here.” Lord Cavendish smiled. “I do not think we are required to stay late, merely showing our faces for a few hours will be sufficient. Unless you are enjoying yourself, Letitia, in which case we can send the carriage back for you.”
She looked through the carriage window up to the house. It was almost as grand as their own. She did not know Lady Howard well and could not predict the guest list.
Would Viscount Wynn be invited? Could he already be inside, dancing with a beautiful woman?
Had he forgotten about her already?
“Thank you, Papa,” she managed.
Her father was not listening. He had already descended to the pavement and was now helping Lady Cavendish out of the carriage.
Letitia allowed herself to be helped down and stood shivering on the pavement. Now all she had to do was enter Lady Howard’s ball and dance—or not dance, as the case would be.
She had agreed to come against her better judgment, and she did not want to be there—but that was beside the point. This was what Cavendishes did, whatever was best for the family.
“Ah, who is that beautiful young woman?”
Letitia looked around as her mother spoke and saw a familiar face descending from a carriage.
Miss Lymington.
Nausea rose from her stomach, but Letitia forced a smile as she inclined her head. Miss Lymington curtseyed in turn and brushed past her to enter Lady Howard’s.
Letitia somehow found her voice. “That is Miss Lymington.”
“Miss Lymington?” Lady Cavendish’s eyes widened. “My word, she is as beautiful as I heard, and with thirty thousand pounds.”
As soon as the words were spoken, she colored and glanced at her husband. Lord Cavendish said nothing, but Letitia saw the clench of his jaw at her poor manners.
“Your lordship.” One of Lady Howard’s footmen bowed as they entered the house and handed over their invitation. “Your ladyship, my lady.”
“You enjoy yourself, Letitia,” Lady Cavendish said with a smile, waving at an acquaintance who had already gestured that she should join their group. “Your father and I will inform you when we are leaving, and you can decide whether to return with us or stay a little longer.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
Her father had already gone, and when she looked back at her mother, she was rapidly conversing with her friend.
Letitia stood completely alone and took a deep breath. This was going to be like any other ball, she told herself. You will feel alone and ignored, completely invisible. Then you will go home. It is not the end of the world.
The next hour was spent wandering from room to room, but with the added pain of keeping continuously alert for any sign of a black-haired gentleman around every corner. Lady Howard’s house was far larger than it had appeared from the street, and as Letitia walked through the rooms, she encountered some packed with people, one with a piano and Miss Lymington playing beautifully, another with dancing, and her mind played tricks on her.
A gentleman laughed as Edward did. A musician smiled at the end of a piece, and the twist of his mouth was like Edward’s when he jested with her.
Letitia was weary, her heart sore—and what was worse, Lady Howard’s set was different from her own. There was not a single person here she knew.
Until she was standing, watching the dancing, as she always did, and a gap in the set revealed a lady seated on the other side of the room holding a book.
“Good evening, Mariah,” Letitia said quietly after crossing the room.
Mariah did not respond immediately, but pulled a piece of paper from her reticule and used it as a makeshift bookmark, carefully noting the page before closing it and smiling at Letitia.
“I was not expecting to see you here,” the bluestocking said, rising to her feet.
Letitia laughed. “A ball full of music, laughter, and dancing? Where else would I be but standing here by the wall?”
Mariah frowned as she tucked her book under her arm. “You seem bent on always speaking ill of yourself. ’Tis a strange habit, and one I wish you would cease.”
Letitia sighed as her gaze followed the dancing couples, moving intricately like a loom.
All she wanted to do was dance, just once, with a gentleman who truly wanted to dance with her. Was that too much to ask?
But Letitia knew she was lying to herself. What she wanted was Edward.
“It is time to accept what I am,” she said. “I am a wallflower, and that is what I will be until I die. Everyone else knows it, and it is time that I accepted it.”
“I accept no such thing.”
Letitia froze. It was not Mariah who had spoken, but another voice she recognized.
Standing behind her, looking even more handsome than she had remembered, was Edward.
“You,” she breathed.
“Finally,” said Mariah briskly. “I thought I would have to wait forever. You took your time, Edward.”
Letitia stared in confusion. “Wait—wait forever? What in Heaven’s name do you mean?”
Mariah smiled, and Letitia saw that for the first time, was a rather mischievous smile. “Well, what is an adopted sister to do but play bait? I will speak with you later, Letitia—or not, as the case may be. I have a book either way.”
Letitia watched Mariah step around the room, her mouth open. Bait? What did Mariah mean?
“Mariah volunteered to wait here until you arrived.”
Letitia stared at Edward, who was smiling nervously.
Love, untamed and ferocious, rose in her heart, but she could not allow it to overwhelm her. Yes, she loved him, but she would not allow herself to be shamed.
All she wanted to do was fling herself into his arms, but the pain of his last words to her were enough to hold her back.
“But—But I want to see you again.”
“Well, I do not.”
“I know you have no reason to listen to a word I say,” Edward said quickly, as though reading her mind. “All I ask is for you to hear—”
“You are right,” Letitia interrupted quietly. “I do not want to listen to anything you say. Excuse me, Viscount Wynn.”
It took everything in her to walk away, but Letitia knew she owed it to herself, even if no one else believed she was worth it.
“Letitia, wait!”
A hand on her arm prevented her from taking more than three steps, and she turned to stare at him, and the floodgates broke.
“Get your hands off me,” she hissed, sparks flying from her eyes. Edward hastily let go. “Damn you, Edward Wynn, and damn y
our sister for leading me to you! Why can’t you leave me alone, why do you have to torment me?”
Edward was smiling.
“And don’t you smirk at me, you—you heartless man!” Letitia tried to keep her voice low and was grateful for the loud music and cheering as the dancing continued. “You have no idea, do you, no idea what you have done to—I mean…”
Words failed her as she stared at the man who she had utterly loved, given over everything that she was—and had thrown it back in her face.
Edward swallowed. “Letitia, I am so sorry. I am a complete dog for the way I treated you.”
The apology was so unexpected that Letitia’s thoughts stopped in their tracks. “I beg your pardon?”
It was then she noticed that his hands were twisted together, and his eyes were lined and tired.
“I was foolish, and stupid, and arrogant,” he said quietly, his dark brown eyes not leaving hers. “I do not deserve you—you deserve so much better, Letitia, and—”
“At last, something we agree on.” Letitia put as much coldness in her voice and could not help but laugh when she saw his stricken face. “Oh, Ed—Viscount Wynn, I do not know what to think when you say such things. You are a gentleman of words, and wordplay is your bread and butter. How can I ever trust you again? Why would I want to?”
He stared endlessly at her, and Letitia felt the same attraction to him, the same pull that made her want to fall into his arms.
But she had spoken the truth. How could she trust him now that she knew he had used the same tricks on her as every other woman he had encountered?
“What makes me special?” she whispered, not taking her eyes from his. “Why should I believe this is any different?”
“Because you are the first woman I have ever wanted to change for.”
Letitia gaped at him, unable to believe what she was hearing.
“I know myself better now, Letty, and by God, I did not like myself. You made me see who I am, and I realized that if I met myself, I would not like the person I had become.”
“I—I do not understand—”
“And that was when I realized the reason why I wanted to be different was the true cure,” Edward continued, taking another step toward her. They were mere inches away from each other now. “You, Letty.”
“You are just saying that. You are a charmer, Edward Wynn, and you always get what you want.”
“And I want you,” he said urgently. “God’s teeth, Letty, you make me feel—you make me want to be a better man. You make me a better man. Before, when I was alone in the world and thought there was nothing better than bedding a woman, I had no idea that this connection even existed. Tell me—tell me you feel it, too.”
“I felt it. I feel it,” Letitia whispered, unable to look away. “Edward, I love you, but—”
“And I love you.” Edward smiled. “I have never said that before, not to anyone, and when I say it now, I mean it.”
Letitia looked at him carefully. She desperately wanted to believe him but would not allow herself to be tricked again. She would not allow her desire to be loved to overwhelm her reason.
“What are you thinking?” he breathed.
Letitia swallowed. “You have already broken my heart once, and if you cannot take care of it, I would rather you leave me on the sidelines of life. Like the wallflower I am.”
Something dark crossed over Edward’s face, and Letitia knew she had gone too far—perhaps lost their one chance of reconciliation.
Edward pulled her into his arms and kissed her, passionately and purposefully, on the lips.
The music stopped. Gasps echoed around the room as countless people saw him accost her with a most disgraceful display of affection.
Letitia did not care. She was barely aware anyone else was in the room with them. This was enough—Edward’s arms around her, his lips on hers, his scent overpowering her, and the sweet knowledge that this was it. He was hers, and she was his.
The kiss was over before Letitia realized, and she smiled at him, the one gentleman in the world who had seen her for what she was, not merely a wallflower.
“Everyone is looking,” she whispered, still captured in his arms.
Edward grinned. “You will have to get used to it, I’m afraid. You are going to be the center of attention for the rest of your life. You are my world, Letty, and I love you.”
Before she could think about what he had said, Edward released her and dropped down onto one knee.
“Edward,” she whispered.
“Letitia,” he said with a grin, his dark hair wild and dropping over his eyes. He pushed it aside before saying, “Lady Letitia Cavendish. After everything I have put you through, after all the heartache and confusion, will you do me the great honor of making me the happiest man in the world, and become my bride?”
Letitia’s mouth fell open, but she did not hesitate for a single second. She knew her own heart, and now she knew his.
Pulling Edward to his feet, Letitia smiled shyly as the eyes of everyone in the room were upon her. “I will.”
She offered her mouth to him, and he accepted them gladly, cupping her face as though he never wanted to let her go.
“Now, really!”
“Is that—was that Letitia Cavendish? The wallflower?”
“God, that’s a turn up for the books—that’s Wynn, the rake!”
The words rushed over her, but Letitia paid them no heed. The only person who mattered was standing before her. She would spend the rest of her life getting to know him even better than she did now.
When they eventually broke apart, Edward grinned. “I love you.”
Letitia’s eyes caught a pair of faces she knew well, and she smiled as she spoke. “I love you, and I am sorry.”
Edward’s handsome face fell. “Why?”
“Because,” Letitia said as she noticed two figures struggling to make their way across the room, “I think you are about to meet my parents.”
Edward glanced behind him and saw Lord and Lady Cavendish pushing past the dancers to get to them. “Good. I have some wonderful things to say about their daughter.”
Letitia slipped her hand into his and felt at home for the first time in her life. “Don’t talk with them too long. We have a wedding to plan.”
Epilogue
Letitia took a deep breath and felt the shiver of panic up her spine. “I cannot do it.”
Her hands were shaking. The fear within her had to escape somehow.
“What?” Mariah’s voice was vague, as though she had not heard anything.
Letitia sighed and turned to look at her friend, lying on her bed, holding a book above her.
She smiled. There was only one Mariah, and she should not be surprised, after all these years, to see her acting as she always had.
Her shaking fingers tried to shift a troublesome piece of hair from one side of her parting to the other.
“On this day of all days, do you not think you could pay attention to something not printed in a book?”
Letitia did not intend her words to be harsh, but they were tinged with the fear within her.
“Letitia, is that any way to speak on your wedding day?”
Lady Cavendish was seated by the window and had previously been giving them a running commentary of who was walking along the street and whether she considered their bonnet to be of this season or not.
Now she was glaring at her daughter. “I would have thought you would be grateful to Mariah. ’Twas her, after all, who was the orchestrator of your engagement with Viscount Wynn, and I must say, I am glad the two of you will become sisters.”
“I am grateful, too, Mariah,” Letitia said softly, a wry smile creeping across her face. “But I do not think we should give her the entirety of the credit for the engagement, Mama. I think the majority of it, surely, must go to myself and Edward.”
Lady Cavendish rolled her eyes. “Edward, perhaps, and I do congratulate you, my dear, because he will make
a handsome son-in-law. But what did you do?”
Letitia swallowed and turned back to the looking glass. Her mother’s thoughts were almost transparent. It was not Letitia who had apologized. It was not Letitia who had proposed. It was not Letitia who would make an honest woman of her.
But, and Letitia held onto this knowledge like a fire in her belly, she had never needed to apologize. She had done nothing wrong, and it had been her demand to Edward outside the Axwick ball which had changed everything.
“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?”
“Yes, Mama,” she said demurely.
Lady Cavendish sniffed, but when she rose from her chair, she did so to embrace her daughter. “I am so proud of you, my darling. You did not descend to any nasty tricks to land a gentleman, and by all accounts, your Edward will make you happy. Now, I am going to inquire with Cook and Bentliff to ensure that all is going to plan. I will see you at the church.”
Kissing her daughter’s head, Lady Cavendish paused for a moment and gave Letitia a look she did not recognize, something between intense pride and sadness.
A lump rose in Letitia’s throat. “I am getting married, Mama. I will still be your daughter, still live in London in the Season. You will see me every day.”
Lady Cavendish nodded, but the sadness did not disappear in her eyes. “Yes, I know. But it will not be the same.”
With a swish of skirts, she was gone, the door closed gently behind her.
Letitia stood still, the moment she had shared with her mother absorbing all her attention.
“This is a fantastic book, you know, Letitia,” came a voice from the bed, “and you would know that if you had bothered to read it.”
Letitia smiled and turned to look at Mariah. “It is not A New Mathematical and Philosophical Dictionary again, is it?”
Mariah sat up and crossed her legs, grinning. “I honestly believe you would find it a most instructive text.”
“Do you think today we could not focus on the books that I should have read, and instead whether or not I am going to go through with this and…and marry your brother?”
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