Chapter Three #3
‘You are a shining knight, my lord,’ Willa stated, grateful for their more secluded position to one side of a pillar.
Being out of the way suited her, for she had not caught sight of Phillip Moreland for a good half an hour, though the noise from the other salon alerted her to the fact that he was probably in the big group of men and women enjoying the ball there.
She should have left to find her carriage but she could not quite do it, the churning excitement in her stomach from just knowing he was close keeping her at the ball.
She knew it was foolishness to feel this way, given her history, but there it was and there was no way to change it.
She drank the glass of champagne with haste and hoped it might dull the ache inside.
The first sounds of the music from the orchestra were again beginning to fill the room as strings were tuned in preparation for the next brace of dances when Anna’s surprised expression distracted her.
‘My goodness, could Lord Elmsworth possibly be coming towards us?’
Turning, Willa saw the Earl not five yards away, the darkness of his clothes emphasising the tan on his skin, his blue eyes fixed upon her.
‘Mrs St Claire.’
‘My lord.’
The silence stretched between them, her surroundings falling away, so that it seemed it was only them in the room, the rest of Society disappearing into shadow.
‘I came to ask you for the next dance, if indeed you do have it free?’
Unable to decline, she placed her hand on his arm as he led her through a throng of people, all reappearing now in colour, noise and movement. Such a juxtaposition was dizzying.
‘I got your note thanking me for my hospitality at Elmsworth.’ His voice was quiet, one hand around hers and the other at her waist as they faced one another.
‘I did not expect to see you here, my lord.’ It was all she could give him back, her heart beating so violently she thought if he let her go she might fall.
‘I have heard that exact same sentiment all night from everyone I have talked to.’
The words between them were formal and ordinary, far from their conversation in his kitchen with her dressed only in her night attire and her hair loose.
He sounded slightly bored, as if all this socialising was only to be got through. Irritation gave her own words an edge. ‘The conjecture, my lord, is because Society in general has so little to be surprised by.’
He looked at her directly now, his blue eyes sharpening. ‘Then perhaps my role tonight is to give others a small rest from such perpetual tedium?’
At this she did laugh and she felt the knots in her stomach begin to loosen. He was not different. He was exactly the same, his words affecting her here as they had done in the night-time kitchen of Elmsworth Manor.
‘A worthy aspiration.’
‘I thought you might see it as such.’
She could feel the breath of his words against her cheek.
‘I imagine after such a long time away in another land England feels somewhat different, my lord.’ She was starting to find her feet again, his manner giving her cues back to normalcy, the relief of it all a reprieve.
‘Indeed, it does. The formality here is something I’d forgotten about.’
She nodded. ‘I understand what you mean exactly. When I arrived in London I was newly widowed and out of my depth with Society here. It was a difficult time.’
‘You do not look uncertain now.’
‘London’s diversity doesn’t allow one to hide away.’
‘Which is probably a good thing,’ he returned. ‘It has been a long while since I have been out in this city.’
‘And so much has changed, I should imagine.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said softly as he gazed around the room. ‘But so much has not.’
‘You did not enjoy London, my lord? Before, I mean.’ She wondered if the question was too personal even as she asked it, but he took no umbrage.
‘Expectations can be wearying and here they arrive in many forms. The ball. The dances. The conversations. But I am beginning to feel more established in Hampshire.’
‘In your role there? In the running of a large estate?’
‘I forgot how many questions you ask.’
Willa hated the blush that came across her cheeks.
‘I did not mean that as a criticism, Mrs St Claire. Sometimes questions are a good thing because they can bring about a change.’
‘You sound like your brother.’
This time he laughed. ‘Esther mentioned that she was acquainted with you when I visited Nettleford on my arrival. Oliver looked happier than I have ever seen him.’
‘Because he has found a nest with Esther and the children.’
‘A nest?’
‘Most men need these to flourish.’
‘Is this a scientific fact?’
‘No. My parents would be horrified by such a deduction. I told you they were scientists, did I not? It’s more of an observation, I think, but the nest has to be a happy one or the whole theory falls apart.’
‘Do you have many of these theories, Mrs St Claire?’
‘I think I do, my lord. I think a lifetime of watching people forms the sort of knowledge in one that is undeniable.’
‘I have heard you enjoy evenings of discussion at your house. Are these the sort of things spoken of?’
‘Oh, there are no rules. You say what you wish to and receive back an opinion. No one is right or wrong unless they are derogatory and mean-minded.’
‘In which case they are thrown out?’
‘No, not even that. We try to reform even the bleakest of bigots.’
‘Who is “we”?’
She smiled. ‘Probably just me. I find if a meeting is run in kindness it is generally successful.’
‘When is the next one?’
Surprise made her frown. ‘You are thinking of coming?’
‘Am I not allowed?’
‘Of course you are; it is just…these discussions are open to everyone and as such they have a certain flavour…’
‘The flavour of democracy?’
His humour was wry. ‘On second thoughts, I think you would do very well as an attendee, my lord, and I will send you an invitation.’
All around them people watched, interested eyes noting their every move, and Willa understood for a moment how exhausting it must be for him.
There could be no false steps or inadvisable actions without repercussion.
Even now Willa imagined her name might be bandied around tomorrow in surprise as an unsuitable partner for an earl who needed to be married and providing heirs for the wealthy and flourishing estate of Elmsworth.
George Fitzgibbon to one side caught her eye, his frown heavy, and Anna at the other end of the room looked only astonished. Another moment out of time that simply could not last.
‘You are a far better dancer than me, Mrs St Claire.’
‘Which is a wonder because for years I had no practice at all.’
‘Until you came to London?’
‘There are things here that I have found lovely.’
‘Such as?’
‘The libraries. The architecture. The ideas.’
‘You are a bluestocking?’ His smile was beautiful.
‘I am a woman catching up with a life I did not have.’
‘And such freedom is beguiling?’
‘More than even that, I think. It is astonishing.’
Phillip Moreland did not answer as they listened to the last strains of Brahms but he held her close before he stepped back to bow.
A simple ending like a hundred others all across the ballroom floor and then a woman was at his side, her hand resting upon his arm in a manner that suggested that they knew each other well.
‘My lord. You promised me this dance.’
He turned away, an easy transition, with apparently no thoughts of staying.
‘Indeed I did, Miss Hammond.’ The woman’s attractive voice drifted back to her as they left and, smoothing her skirts down, Willa crossed the floor and made her way to the front door.
Lord Elmsworth needed a wife and a family to bring him back to a fine life had she not just told him so?
Her own nest was barren and singular and would remain that way.
Any wish of more was both pointless and dangerous.
Dangerous because if she let herself get attracted to a man who was plainly not for her it could only cause hurt for them both and she had had enough of that in her life.
Lifting her head, she gave thanks to the host and hostess and made her way out, pleased to settle into the gloom and the privacy of her carriage.
‘Ah, Lionel,’ she said softly beneath her breath as the driver called on the horses and she was homeward bound. ‘Why on earth did I ever agree to marry you?’
Phillip Moreland had been attentive to her tonight but nothing more. He had behaved impeccably and formally, a grand earl returned to his rightful place into a Society that worshipped him.
She admonished herself for expecting it to be different.
A foolish hope with her advancing years and her unwise history.
He had probably felt sorry for her, truth be told, and perhaps regretful for the scene late at night in the Elmsworth kitchen.
Part of him may have also worried about scandal and if she had spoken to anyone about their unwise encounter.
She was a woman who had made the wrong choices in life and had found peace in her quiet existence here in London.
Why was it, then, that the excitement welling just from his touch was again threatening everything?
She changed her position on the seat, cursing the thin flare of heat that was welling deep inside, curdling sense and making it harder to breathe.
Closing her eyes against the moving lights of London town, she leant back and let her feelings come, her soft moans bringing warmth as a release claimed her.
She could not temper the tears either that fell down her cheeks. So many years of nothing and now this everything. It was her solace and her secret.
Phillip had seen her leave, a solitary figure in green who made straight for the door at the very far end of the room. She was taller than most of the other women here and so it was easy to watch her, the chandeliers adding a lighter tinge to her dark hair.