Chapter 14 #2
“No, and let us hope that you’ve not merely brought me here on a night that they do not attend. I shall have to come back and check again, perhaps without your knowledge, to be sure.”
“The hell you will.” She came to stand before the fire. The flickering light softened her expression, rendering her momentarily thoughtful—almost vulnerable.
“Again, Lord William, you forget that you do not control my actions or where I visit while in town. While I’m satisfied tonight you’re not a hypocrite, that doesn’t mean you are always just so. I will need to be sure.”
“Or you could trust my word,” he returned, joining her at the hearth.
“If you come back here, I will be forced to tell Ravensmere of your actions. That you’ve formed a low opinion of me through The Haven, and that you have become obsessed with trying to find fault with me.
You will not,” he added, stepping closer still.
“While I may be the rough-hewn Beaufort, I’m not the one you ought to be cautious around.
That would be my brother.” The warning was not lightly given, though something darker flickered beneath it—something almost like concern… and jealousy.
“Your brother is a gentleman and one who is courting me respectfully.”
He ought to tell her his brother didn’t do anything respectfully and never had, still, it was not his place.
Mayhap she had true feelings for his sibling.
Perhaps in time his brother may form a true and heartfelt attachment to her, although he doubted it.
His brother didn’t possess a heart. It was unlikely she would get her love match, which she so clearly wished for.
The thought left an unexpected bitterness on his tongue.
“I hope for your happiness, that is true, if you do set your cap on him.”
“This is an inappropriate conversation to be having with me.”
“You being here is inappropriate, and yet I’m forced to endure it.”
She sighed and started to inspect the room, before noting a door and clasping the handle. Another entrance to his sleeping quarters. “Do not go in there…” he said, too late when she opened the door.
Her skirts whispered over the floorboards as she stepped into his chamber, the soft sound oddly intimate in the quiet space.
“You shouldn’t be in there, Lady Clementine,” he warned, following her.
Not that he didn’t trust himself. He trusted himself implicitly, but still, the sight of her in his bedroom did odd things to him.
Made him think of things he ought not. Made him wish for things he didn’t want to imagine.
Had never thought for himself until this night.
Right at this moment. Desires he had long buried stirred to life with unsettling clarity.
“You sleep and work here? Do you not have a home of your own in town?”
“I do,” he said, joining her. “But it’s closed, and I may never use it, unless I marry, of course. I’m currently in negotiations to purchase a property in the country, which I shall spend more time at, but that is an ongoing process.”
The acquiring of his mother’s estate, the place where Sarah was buried, was something he wished to keep to himself until all the paperwork was signed and the deal unbreakable. The memory of his happy place lingered in his mind—quiet gardens, familiar rooms, and the ghosts of those he had lost.
He didn’t want his brother to sell him property to someone else, merely to spite him. He could not face losing that connection to his beloved past. No. He had to settle that sale, and then everything would be right in the world.
Her attention moved back to the bed, and he would have loved to have known what was going through her mind. Probably something far different from what was dancing through his. Or perhaps not so different as he dared to hope.
“Are you not lonely here all alone?”
Her question caught him off guard, and he moved past her to sit on the end of the bed. “No. I have plenty to keep me occupied.” He paused. “But if you’re asking if I’m ever in need of company, there have been women in this room before you, and we’ve spent a very pleasant night.”
The words were meant to distance her, to remind them both of the impropriety of her presence—but they did not have the intended effect. Her cheeks pinkened, and he smirked. “I’m sorry if that embarrasses you, but you did ask.”
“I don’t recall asking about your lovers.” She walked over and stood before him.
His heart stopped beating. He couldn’t help but wonder if she knew what she was about.
Did she not sense how inappropriate all of this was?
“You shouldn’t be in here, Emmie. While I may have been born a gentleman, there are times I’ve been known to act quite the opposite.
” A warning—and yet not nearly as firm as it ought to have been.
“You will not harm me,” she returned without hesitation. “While I know we did not start out as friends, I trust you in that regard.”
Her certainty struck him harder than any accusation could have.
He raised a brow and cleared his throat. Unsure if she should be so forthcoming in her trust. “Trusting indeed. Still, it’s time that we leave and return you to Mayfair, where you belong.”
“I do not feel as though I belong there. Sometimes I feel as though I’ve been born into a family I do not recognize.
” She met his gaze and frowned. “Don’t get me wrong, I love every one of them dearly, but I dislike the games of society.
I only agreed to take part in the Season for Rosalind so I could barter and volunteer at The Haven.
I would not have been allowed otherwise, should I not have agreed to be the simpering, sweet debutante everyone thinks the Ravensmere daughters are. ”
There was a quiet defiance in her words, one that resonated more deeply than he expected. Interesting. He’d not known that there had been a deal made within the family for Lady Clementine to take part in society. The information made her a little less unsatisfying…
Hell, who was he fooling? She was never unsatisfying, merely he’d placed her into a box of a society princess who was privileged and spoiled.
She may be the former, but she was certainly not acting like the latter.
She was anything but what he’d come to know society as.
He had misjudged her entirely—and the realization unsettled him.
She was a breath of fresh air, as much as he’d fought against admitting that to himself. But hearing her now, knowing the truth of how it came to be that she worked at The Haven, he could not think otherwise.
“Sweet debutante?” He grinned. “Have you ever been sweet? I always thought you were a little prickly. Toward me at least.”
“If I were prickly toward you, it was because you were thorny toward me first. I react to how I’m treated, a habit I formed as a child that I cannot break, and so therefore there is no other reasoning behind my treatment of you, but that you started such treatment and I, in turn, acted the same.
If you do not like being treated with aloofness and dismissiveness, you ought not jump to conclusions about people so hastily. ”
He listened and could not fault or argue her words. What she said was true. He’d judged her before he knew her at all. Mayhap he ought to stop doing that. Perhaps there were people he may have been friends with, had he been less judgmental from the start.
“I apologize for judging you. You are not the same as others.” The admission cost him more than he cared to admit.
She smiled, her eyes lighting up her face.
He swallowed and stood, needing to take her home.
Instead, the action placed him all but chest to chest with her.
Worse, she did not step back to move away, instead she looked up at him, her mouth parted as if she were waiting for a kiss.
But it was her eyes that all but voiced the words.
They beckoned for something he doubted she even knew.
An unhelpful predicament he did not wish to be in, for he’d so love to show her what she unknowingly begged for.
Desire coiled wild and dangerous, threatening to unravel every shred of restraint he possessed.
A kiss.
Seduction.
The sweet dance into sin.
They were alone, after all. How easy it would be for him to lean down, press his mouth to hers, and kiss her into submission.
“We should go.” He stepped past her and started for the door. He heard her turn on her heels and follow him, silent in her acquiescence.
Relief and regret warred within him in equal measure.
He strode toward the door to his office, needing to escape, to get out of the closed, private space where they had been. Safety in numbers, after all. Safety for her virtue at least. He shook his head, hoping she was following but not yet trusting himself to look back and see.
Footsteps sounded around the passage corner, and he looked up, expecting to see one of the several men who assisted running the club when he was absent. Instead, the Duke of Ravensmere strode around the corner, his face contorted into lines of displeasure and fury.
The air seemed to crackle with tension as the duke’s presence filled the narrow corridor. William stopped and prepared himself for what was to come.
“Clementine, what the hell are you doing here?” Ravensmere seethed, pushing past William to stand before his sister-in-law.
Her eyes widened behind the mask, and her mouth opened and closed several times as if she was unsure how to speak, how to explain. But in truth, they could not explain this situation, as innocent as it was. Nothing could save either of them now.
The fragile illusion of control shattered in an instant.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in return.
William cringed, knowing that was probably not the best answer she could have given the duke. He braced himself, knowing the storm had only just begun.
His Grace rounded on William, his finger pointed toward his face.
“You will marry her. This is beyond reprehensible. I, too, left the ball when you did. I wished to return home to procure Rosalind a warmer cloak for the Hyde Park ball, and what do I find but my sister-in-law jumping up into a gentleman’s carriage and riding off across town. ”
“Nothing occurred,” William assured, but at the deadly stare Ravensmere bestowed him, he decided to shut the hell up. It was clear no explanation would satisfy the duke now.
“Why are you here?” Ravensmere asked Clementine once again.
“Well, as to that,” she stammered, her gaze flicking to his. “I suppose the truth of the matter is that I needed proof…”
“Of my affections for her, which I have disclosed while being in my office just now. Lady Clementine and I formed an attachment through our joint volunteering at The Haven, and I have asked her to be my wife, and she has agreed.”
“What?” Ravensmere looked back and forth between them. “Do you truly think I believe such nonsense?”
“It is the truth. I have asked Lady Clementine to be my wife, and she has said yes. We were merely on our way to disclose the good news to her family.” William gestured toward the duke. “Which of course is no longer required since you’re here to witness it yourself.”
The lie came too easily, yet he knew there was no other path that would protect her now.
The duke shoved his hands on his hips and threw them both a disbelieving stare.
“No matter why she is here, or what has occurred between you or not this evening, or during your time at the woman’s shelter, you are now engaged.
Clementine, you must return to Mayfair immediately.
I will not allow you to be seen here and ruined. ”
“Of course. I’m sorry, Your Grace.”
The duke gave a small nod and took Clementine’s hand.
“Where can we leave so she is not seen? This pathetic excuse of a mask will not do, and I will not have any of my family, a woman who is under the wardship of my name, to be shamed. Not by you or anyone.” He paused, taking a calming breath.
“You will marry her, and I will, in time, possibly forgive you this heinous act, but that time is not tonight and not right now.”
“Come this way,” William suggested, starting down the corridor and not willing to push the duke any further. He was clearly teetering on the precipice of his control, and he didn’t feel like gaining a bloody nose on top of everything else he’s now having to face.
Every step felt heavier than the last, the consequences of the evening settling firmly upon his shoulders.
Marriage…
With Lady Clementine.
However will he survive that? And why, despite everything, did the thought not fill him with dread alone?