Chapter 6 Relief Swept Through
RELIEF SWEPT THROUGH
Relief swept through Natalie when her mother finally stood, signaling the ladies to remove themselves to the drawing room. Natalie was happy to abandon the duke, and all the others, to their port. God save her from her father and his dukes!
In an effort to appease her parents, Natalie had maintained a stilted conversation with Monfort throughout each carefully prepared course. Talking with the Duke of Monfort, however, had been an utter waste of time and energy. It was akin to wading through a thick Irish bog.
Nonetheless, she had made a valiant effort. Guilt still plagued her for the embarrassment she’d brought upon her father. And for ruining his plans. He’d so wanted the Duke of Cortland for a son-in-law. For her papa’s sake, she’d forced herself to make an honest attempt at being pleasant.
But enough was enough! At her mother’s signal, Natalie bolted out of her chair to make her escape through the large open doors.
Passing Hawthorne, uncomfortably aware of his presence, she tried not to look at him but failed miserably.
She had caught him watching her with that smoldering stare of his more than once during dinner.
Recalling it, she met his eyes as she passed and found herself with an insane impulse to reach out and touch him.
What on earth was the matter with her? Clasping both hands behind her back, she followed the other ladies out of the room.
She did not, however, follow them into the drawing room. Instead, she slipped downstairs and out through the front door.
In the country, far from the smog of London, stars sparkled and the moon shone brightly. The sense of freedom beckoned her.
In spite of Stone and Roman’s return, in spite of the excitement she felt around Lord Hawthorne, she continued to feel sorry for herself.
She wandered onto one of the paths that circled the lake and attempted to process this restlessness that had taken root inside of her.
She did not know how to make it go away.
A broken engagement ought not to force a lady to withdraw from society in shame.
Most especially when the former groom, a duke no less, was free to gallivant off with his lover—now his duchess—on the honeymoon trip that she, Natalie, had planned.
Frustration gnawed at her as she entered the wooded path.
Her imposed exile gave her far too much time to spend in her own company. It allowed her too much time to think, to doubt, and to yearn. For what, she knew not. Natalie grabbed at a branch that dared dangle in her path and ruthlessly twisted it until it snapped from the tree.
She did not regret her decision to break off her betrothal.
She did not! For she’d freed Cortland so he could marry his true love.
How could there be any regret in that? Had Natalie and the duke gone ahead with their wedding as originally planned, both would have grown to resent each other something fierce.
That situation would have been more regrettable by far.
Natalie wanted a husband. She wanted children. But she wanted to actually love her husband. And she wanted her husband to love her in return.
She wrinkled her face as she deliberated.
How did one know love without experiencing intimacy with a person, with a man?
During her two Seasons in London, mingling with the ton, she often witnessed husbands and wives who not only appeared to be indifferent to one another, but displayed outright disgust in each other’s company.
There were but a few exceptions to this standard.
Which vexed her to no end. How did one go about finding “true love”?
Not by following the rules, that was for certain. She’d been a good girl. She’d followed all the strictures of society and look where that had landed her.
What a boon it would be if a lady could try her hand at being a rake. She laughed out loud at the thought.
No longer betrothed, she would have enjoyed celebrating her freedom with some flirting. Ha, like that is going to happen. Living as a virtual prisoner, there was no chance for that.
Logically, she knew society’s stipulations protected young women like herself.
All these ridiculous rules—arranged companions, chaperones, even the dragons at Almacks—existed to safeguard both her person and her reputation.
And her family was relentless in all of this.
She ought not to resent them so much. She loved them.
So why the self-pity? Why the anger? Why the.
..loneliness? For, yes, surrounded by her family as she was, a hollow emptiness remained inside her.
She had thought she would be the happiest girl alive once freed from her commitment, but such emotion proved elusive.
If she had not broken off her betrothal, at this very moment, she would be traveling as the Duchess of Cortland all throughout the continent.
Heavens, as a married woman, she could even possibly be with child!
At this thought, she scrunched her nose in distaste.
Although Cortland was good-looking, she’d not ever really felt—well—like doing that with him.
She had some idea of what occurred between a husband and wife to make children, but she found it unappealing to imagine experiencing such intimacy with Michael Redmond, the Duke of Cortland.
“Are you escaping another duke this evening?” Lord Hawthorne’s deep voice leapt out of the darkness.
“Did you follow me?” She shivered. For perhaps she could imagine doing what it took to make children with this man.
“Would you believe me if I denied it?” He took her arm and turned her to continue walking along the path.
“Would you believe me if I told you I am here merely because I needed a break from proper conversation and the smell of cigars?” He tucked her hand into his arm and then nonchalantly strolled beside her.
Surprised and curious, she glanced over to look up at his profile.
He had long, thick lashes. Distracted by the intensity of his eyes, and the strong definition of his jaw and cheeks, she’d not noticed them before.
And then her gaze dropped to his mouth. Unnerving awareness tugged at her when she remembered how he’d brushed his tongue along her glove that day, slowly, wickedly. She’d been scandalized, of course, but also…intrigued.
“We should not be out here, alone, together.” Her own thoughts flustered her.
“Is it your wish to compromise me? Are you imagining I would then be forced into marriage with you?” She was feeling prickly but continued traversing along the cultivated wilderness walkway beside him.
As they walked deeper into the trees, the shadows grew darker.
“And that would be so disagreeable,” he said, “marriage to the Earl of Hawthorne?” He spoke of his title with disdain, as though he, himself, found it unpalatable.
She did not respond. They took several steps in silence.
“I thought we declared a truce,” she said after a few tense moments.
She lifted her other hand to the crook of his arm and grasped hold as they climbed a small rise.
“I am sorry for snapping at you. I am irritated with my father…” And then she corrected herself.
“Not only my father. I am irritated with my life.” The darkness made it easier to make such an admission.
He placed his other hand atop hers. “And why is that?”
“Have you not been listening to the gossip, my lord? I allowed a magnificent match to slip through my fingers. I could not keep my fiancé from allowing another woman to steal him away.” These spiteful words were not hers.
No, they were sentiments she’d read in the papers before leaving town.
“And now, I am here.” They had arrived atop the hill, leaving the trees behind.
She released his arm and stepped away. Gesturing dramatically, she held her arms wide and threw her head back.
“Banished to the country,, a disgrace to my parents.”
Realizing how self-pitying her words sounded, she dropped her arms and looked off into the distance.
“She is a friend to me, you know, the new duchess. I am not angry with her, or with him.” Natalie knew she should not be outside, at night, alone with this rake.
She did not wish to heed her conscience, though.
Talking with Garrett Castleton was all too easy.
She was being careless with her reputation.
But as she’d already decided, protecting it had gotten her nowhere.
She would rather run, or swim, or fly! She needed to somehow escape her own skin.
She didn’t care what she did so long as she felt alive again.
She’d told the earl his stay here could be an opportunity for him. That he could find some respectability and perhaps establish a few well-connected alliances for himself. She’d told him he ought to take advantage of the situation for his own benefit.
Well, perhaps she too was being presented with an opportunity. If she truly wanted to know more of intimacy and physical passion, was not a well-practiced rake the perfect person from whom to learn?
Garrett watched the different expressions flit across her face.
In truth, he hadn’t considered the part she had played in his own father’s diabolical scheme.
Lady Natalie had been but a casualty, a pawn caught in the war his father had declared on Cortland and Ravensdale.
Although innocent of any wrongdoing, she was being punished for circumstances completely out of her control.
Watching her curl her arms around herself, he removed his jacket and placed it upon her shoulders.
He itched to wrap his arms around her as well but would not.
He most certainly did not wish to find himself caught in a parson’s trap at this time in his life. He had too much work to do.
He was also all too aware that marriage to him would be no prize for any lady.