Page 18 of Scandalous Nights With the Earl
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 perhapsregretful 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.
‘Mrs St Claire is certainly a woman men notice, my lord, for there is something about her that is hidden, I think, a mystery. By all accounts her husband was rather a possessive man with a temper, and when she first came down to London with him years ago she was a very quiet thing. Now I think her opinion is often sought on all types of topics, though some do say she is a little too opinionated.’
He did not wish for this gossip from Clementine Wilson and refrained from answering, even as he willed the dance to an end.
‘I hope you will stay in London this Season, my lord, as my brother would be most appreciative of your company andfriendship. He is often rather lonely these days. His wife, Patricia, is an unusual person and…’
Phillip simply stopped listening. This was exactly why he had largely absented himself from Society, with all the innuendo and shuttered criticism. He wished Mrs St Claire were still here so that he could have asked her for another dance and talked some more. Her conversation was interesting and different, and there was an honesty in her words that was refreshing.