Chapter 7 Shocked
SHOCKED
Shocked by her own actions, Natalie stood frozen on the path long after Lord Hawthorne’s departure.
Conflicting sensations ran rampant through her.
His abrupt departure was chilling, and yet, inside, Natalie felt warm and flushed from the desire he’d awakened.
After several moments, casting off the trance that had captured her, she tentatively touched her fingers to her lips.
The normally plump flesh there ought to be burning.
It ought to be feverish after his scorching kiss.
But her lips felt no different than before. How was that possible?
His departing words cut deeply. If he’d been trying to hurt her, he had succeeded. And she’d deserved every word.
Shame swept through her, both for her wanton actions and her contradictory behavior. But…an overwhelming giddiness came over her nonetheless.
No wonder the mothers and chaperones had kept him away from all the debutantes. The man had practically set fire to her toes!
She would not be devastated by his parting words.
She would not wallow in self-pity from his rejection.
After months of feeling as though her life was fatefully mapped out before her, she thrilled to feel a glimmering of hope in her heart once again. She would not scoff at such a gift.
Light-hearted for the first time in ages, she skipped around back and entered through the servants’ entrance, her irritation with being trapped in the country obliterated. What a night!
After climbing the stairs to her room, Natalie’s euphoria dissipated as she mulled over Lord Hawthorne’s parting words.
He had, in fact, been angry when he’d left her.
And being thrust away from him so harshly had not been pleasant at all.
He’d yelled at her. He’d asked what kind of game she was playing. Was she, in truth, playing games?
He hadn’t met her gaze after their kiss.
She had seen his eyes, though—they had been blazing.
He’d looked tormented, almost like a caged animal.
Did I do that to him? She was not sorry for the kiss, but she did feel bad for making him so explosively angry, especially after getting along so well throughout most of their walk.
She had felt as though they were, well, friends. Ought she to apologize?
Her maid, the ever-present and anxious Mrs. Tinsdale, awaited Natalie’s return to her room.
She even went so far as to scold her, saying a young lady ought not to be gallivanting about the countryside in the dark, no matter it was her own parents’ property.
The older woman, once nanny to the family, had taken the task as lady’s maid to Natalie once all the children had grown.
The Spencers were the only family she’d ever known.
She’d not given up her original role, however, when it came to caring for Natalie.
“Don’t fuss so, Tinsdale. There is nothing wrong with a midnight stroll.
” Natalie bristled inside. She should not have to answer to her maid, as well as to her parents, her brothers, and all of society!
She didn’t have the heart to reprimand the woman, though.
Dearest Tinny didn’t deserve Natalie’s ire. Argh! She felt so…trapped!
Long after Tinsdale left, Natalie lay upon her bed staring at the ceiling.
But she did not see the ceiling. No, rather she was recalling intensely black eyes flashing in the moonlight, eyes as black as opals with a few tiny creases at the edges.
The creases had appeared when he smiled at her.
And he had smiled, yes he had. Before that kiss.
He wasn’t dangerous, quite. He was exciting. He represented a world she’d never known. He’d somehow brought her back to life.
And now she’d angered him. She blinked several times at the thought.
She must apologize! Yes, an apology was not only appropriate but imperative. And she mustn’t wait until tomorrow. She must apologize tonight!
Buoyed by her decision, Natalie donned her dressing gown and slipped quietly out of her room.
Lord Hawthorne was staying in Joseph’s old room.
As Joseph was nearest to her in age, she’d often snuck into his room late at night for one reason or another.
But Joseph was gone. A very different bachelor now occupied his room—one who was not a brother to her—one who was not in good temper with her at the moment.
Pacing outside his door, Natalie very nearly turned around several times to return to her own chamber.
Ladies simply did not do this sort of thing.
Why, she would be ruined forever if one of her mother’s guests caught her behaving so outrageously!
But she was not the same girl she’d been all spring.
She would take some chances. She would follow her heart.
After looking down both lengths of the corridor to be certain she was not observed, she stepped up to the door and knocked.
She didn’t have to wait but a moment.
“Enter,” a voice ordered from behind the closed door.
After taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and pushed her way into the masculine abode. Oh Lord, he was not alone.
Marcus was gathering the earl’s discarded clothing and preparing to leave his new master for the night. His eyebrows rose in surprise upon seeing Natalie standing at the open door in her dressing gown. “Did you forget that Joseph no longer lives here, my lady?”
Just then Lord Hawthorne appeared from behind the privacy screen.
He was barefoot, wearing a deep blue silk dressing gown loosely tied at the waist. The hem barely skimmed the floor.
Unbidden, Natalie imagined strong calves rising from those slim masculine feet.
As the gown gaped, a deep V of his naked chest stole her attention.
The smattering of black hair contrasted with the paleness of his skin.
Natalie tried to remember what Marcus had said. Oh, right, something about this being Joseph’s room. “Er, ah, no, Marcus, I have something of import that I must discuss with Lord Hawthorne.”
If Marcus could have raised his eyebrows any higher at that moment, Natalie felt certain he would have.
“That will be all, Marcus.” Lord Hawthorne dismissed the valet. “Lady Natalie will be returning to her own room very shortly.”
Marcus walked toward the door, surreptitiously throwing a speculative glance at Natalie.
When he was near enough that he blocked the earl’s view of her, she raised one hand to her mouth and made a motion as though locking it with a key.
As understanding dawned, Marcus smiled conspiratorially, and then he mimicked her motion.
Accomplices from an early age, she knew he’d not give her secret away. Handy thing, she mused, having a man’s valet for a friend.
Marcus closed the door behind Natalie, leaving her and Lord Hawthorne—scandalously—alone.
Lord Hawthorne took a seat on one of the cushioned chairs and reclined with a suspicious glower.
As he crossed one ankle over his other knee, his dressing gown fell open, revealing a glimpse of one very masculine calf and thigh.
Natalie noticed there was less hair above his knee than below it.
Would the curling hairs be soft to touch? Her fingers itched to find out.
“Is there something I can do for you, my lady?” He pronounced her title with sarcastic emphasis, as though to insinuate she was not acting like a lady.
“Um, oh, yes. I was concerned at how we parted.” She paused.
“I rather thought we were coming to be friends...and I didn’t want to go to sleep thinking…
Well, I didn’t want for you to go to sleep feeling angry with me.
” She fidgeted with her fingernails. At the end of her poorly rehearsed speech, she peered at him from beneath her lashes.
Good Lord, this man was absolutely delicious.
However had she thought of him as not-quite-handsome before?
With his freshly washed hair, dressed in silk, he made it difficult for her to think straight.
She was lucky she’d gotten as many words out as she had.
Garrett stood. He’d behaved unmannerly to remain seated when she entered the room.
He should feel guilty about that. Walking across the carpet, he gestured toward the velvet-covered armchair nearest her.
“Won’t you sit?” He was not going to banish her immediately.
He looked thoughtful. Perhaps he wanted to apologize as well.
Smoothing the front of her dressing gown, Natalie sat in the chair he’d indicated. “Thank you.” They might well have been in the drawing room with both doors thrown wide open for the formality with which they both spoke.
Garrett returned to his own chair, pulled it closer in front of hers, and sat.
Leaning forward, he draped one arm over a knee and an elbow on the other, resting his chin upon his closed fist. He regarded her with an intensity that made her want to squirm.
“You are right, you know,” he conceded softly.
“In your opinion that I am lucky to be allowed a second chance.” His words surprised her.
“I have spent the last decade doing nothing to garner regard amongst society. I have gambled, fought duels, spent time in brothels, and God forbid, made money in business. And when I did attend a ton event, I showed no regard for propriety, as you well know.”
In a rush, she interrupted his confession. “Why? Why did you do that?” She needed to know. It was as though, within him, there were two different men. For he had not taken advantage of her when given the opportunity earlier tonight.
He grimaced. “Does it matter?”
“It does,” she said.
Silence fell so heavy in that moment that the sounds of servants walking overhead suddenly were most apparent.
Would he answer her? He looked so very vulnerable.
She again felt pulled toward him, as she had in the dining room.
But in this moment, she wanted to kneel before him and wrap her arms around his waist.