Chapter 6 #2
“They are fools,” Rowan replied, stepping into her space but keeping a respectful distance. He handed her a glass of lemonade he had snatched from a passing waiter on their way through the ballroom. “And I find I quite enjoy the sport of defending you. It is a novel sensation.”
Tamsin took a sip, her eyes softening as she looked at him over the rim of the glass. “I shall ask again. Why are you being so kind? You could have been terrible about all of this. You could have easily turned your back on me, even killed my brother for trying to force the issue.”
He could have given her a flippant reply, but he knew he owed her the truth. “I know you think this is all your fault, but if I hadn’t gone after you that night, the Belle would have never seen us together.”
“Why did you come after me?” she asked, her eyes intense. “You were… in the middle of something.”
That surprised a laugh out of him. “Indeed. But I knew you must be upset about what you’d seen.
I suppose I just wanted to…” He scrubbed a hand through his dark hair.
“Hell, I don’t know what I wanted.” He’d been asking himself that all week.
It had been exceedingly foolish. He’d come bursting out of the trees after her, looking flushed and rumpled from the amorous pursuits he’d just been engaging in.
Of course, it had looked to passersby as though she was the woman he’d been with.
“You knew who I was?” she asked, as though every word he said was a revelation.
“I did,” he said, reaching out to sweep a stray strand of ebony hair out of her eyes.
Her hair was silky and clung to his fingers most distractingly.
“You’re the most striking woman I’ve ever seen, Tamsin.
Of course, I knew who you were.” It embarrassed him to admit it, but there it was.
How could he be anything but honest with her when both their futures were at stake?
“I knew who you were, too,” she admitted, a becoming flush creeping up her cheeks. How long had it been since he’d been with a woman who had the ability to blush? He found it wonderfully refreshing, and he couldn’t deny the pleasure her words gave him.
He cleared his throat. “I think we are both tired of being what people expect us to be, instead of who we truly are. This marriage will give both of us a chance to reinvent ourselves.” He was not quite the rake everyone presumed him to be, but he was growing more certain by the moment that she truly did have a bit of a wild streak beneath her demure surface.
She nodded, seeming to understand exactly what he meant. “I want that, Rowan. I truly do.”
He shifted so that he was beside her, taking her hand in his. “Tell me about something you love, Tamsin. Something that has nothing to do with Vauxhall or the Belle. I would like to begin to know you.”
She looked surprised, then thoughtful. “I... I like the stars. Not the way the poets write about them, but the science of them. When I was at our country estate, I used to steal my brother’s telescope and sit on the roof until dawn, viewing them in the night sky.”
Rowan smiled, absolutely charmed. “Then you’ll be happy to know my… our house in the country has the highest roof in the county. And I shall buy you your own telescope, so you can look at the stars whenever you like without resorting to petty theft.”
Tamsin laughed, a low, melodic sound. “Well, I hope that if you do, you spend some time looking at them with me.”
He stared at her, arrested by the idea of such a lovely domestic activity. “That would be nice,” he said hoarsely. “I look forward to it.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, but he also just wanted to stay here and talk with her. He truly enjoyed her company.
“Well, I suppose we should get back,” she said with a sigh. “We don’t want to cause an even bigger scandal by sneaking off together on the night of our engagement ball.”
He found himself strangely disappointed to lose this moment with her, but he suddenly realized that after tomorrow, he could spend as much time with her as he wished.
Deciding he could be patient for one more day, he obligingly led her back to the ball.
As they stepped back into the ballroom, the transition from the coolness of the conservatory to the oppressive heat of the gala was jarring. Tamsin braced herself for the renewed judgment of people who were supposed to be celebrating her engagement.
Nicolas stood a few yards away. The moment his gaze found hers, his expression tightened.
He’d obviously noticed that she was missing and had seen her exit the conservatory.
He didn’t approach, but the frustrated jerk of his chin and the hardness in his eyes said enough: Where have you been? Why must you always make things harder?
Tamsin felt the familiar reflexive urge to smooth her skirts and offer a conciliatory smile, the mask of the perfect daughter and sister that she had worn since her nursery days. But as she looked at her brother, the urge simply… withered.
A remarkable, dizzying sense of freedom surged through her.
For years, every tilt of her head, every syllable she uttered, and every dance she accepted had been a performance designed to secure a husband of standing.
The constraints of the ton had been a corset around her very soul, cinching tighter with every passing season.
But I’ve succeeded. No matter how it came about, I’ve secured an earl. And a wealthy one at that. Tomorrow, I will be the Countess of Haversham. I won’t have to play these games anymore.
The realization struck her to the core. By sunset of the following day, she would no longer be a girl on the marriage market.
She would no longer be Nicolas’s responsibility or subjected to the rigid rules of those like Lady Shrewsbury.
She had already fallen from grace; the worst had happened, and yet, she was still standing.
Better yet, she was standing next to a man who had looked her in the eye and asked her to tell him about something she loved.
Nicolas certainly didn’t care about the things that made her happy. He might love her, but ever since their father’s death, she’d felt like a burden to him.
She found herself stealing a glance at Rowan as he guided her through the crowd.
He moved with a predatory grace that she once would have found dangerous, but tonight, his presence felt like a shield.
“I find I quite enjoy the sport of defending you.” He had been so gentle in the conservatory, so strangely attentive.
Is he truly as wonderful as he seems? Or is he just toying with me? Lulling me into a false sense of security? She was afraid to know the answers to those questions.
Rowan caught her looking and arched a dark brow, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Still feel like you’re facing the firing squad?” he murmured, leaning in just enough for her to feel his warmth and breathe in his wonderful sandalwood scent.
“No,” Tamsin whispered, surprising herself with the strength in her own voice. “I’m just coming to terms with the fact that once we’re wed, I don’t have to care what they think.”
“That’s my girl,” he said softly, unmistakable pride shining in his dark eyes. “You’ll be the Countess of Haversham, and you can tell them all to bloody well hang, if you choose.”
A sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh escaped her. She’d never known anyone who thought such things and actually dared to speak them aloud. “Perhaps I will,” she said daringly.
With a smile, he reached out and squeezed her hand. Even through their gloves, she could feel his heat, and it soothed something within her. She could do this. She could get through tonight.
If only she were as certain about tomorrow.