Page 49 of Scandalous Nights With the Earl
He smiled.
‘Have dinner with me tonight at my town house, Willa.’
So much more was implied in his words and she was grateful. He would not rush. He would not spoil the anticipation. She had waited years for this, wanted to savour all that he might show her, and it seemed he understood. She had been wrong to wish it over so quickly and to negate her own part in it.
‘I would like that.’
He bowed slightly and moved towards the door.
‘Then I will send a carriage for you just before eight.’
As she nodded he left, closing the door behind him. Even that courtesy was appreciated because it gave her time to put herself together, and one glance in the mirror showed her the extent of her dishevelment.
Was this what delight looked like on a woman, the flushed cheeks and lips that were suddenly more full? Her eyes looked different too, the gold in them far more noticeable and languid. With care she rebound the tendrils fallen from her chignon and readjusted the line of her bodice. She’d seen the paintings of Delaroche and Reubens and the Arcadian pleasures of the Rococo paintings in the forbidden books the McAllistair sisters held dear from their father’s collections, images where the viewer was invited to gaze voyeuristically upon the sleeping nymphs and pleading lovers. She’d never quite understood the allure until now, when the possibility of abandonment and relinquishment of her own sexual being was so very close.
Tonight after dinner. In the darkness. Away from this house. Glancing at the clock on the far wall, she counted down the hours. Six and a half hours. Four hundred and fifty minutes. Her hand pressed against her stomach to try to stop the growing need there and she rocked back and forth.
Delight.It was going to be hers. And she would take it without question.
Half an hour later the doorbell chimed again and for a moment she wondered if Phillip Moreland was back to rescind his promises and retract his invitation to dinner.
But the aristocratic diction of the McAllistair sisters was suddenly audible, and within a moment they were ushered into the salon.
Miss Jean, the oldest sister, spoke first, a tumbling torrent of words, each more unbelievable than the one before it.
‘We are leaving London, dearest Willa, and you shall be the first to know of it. Our father’s cousin’s son has claimed the London house and the estate to the west and in a show of good grace has bequeathed us a beautiful cottage in Royal Tunbridge Wells with a garden and a stream and trees all around. It is just too good of an opportunity to pass up and of late we have found London dreary, cold and busy.’
‘So we will travel down next week as the place is furnished already and there shan’t be a thing to do to get it ready.’ Christine added this as her sister stopped, her face full of joy. Even the least talkative sister, Mildred, seemed charmed by the change in their circumstances.
‘Our second cousin has left two of his staff to see to our needs, a cook and a butler, and so if we take Genevieve with us as our lady’s maid we will be all set up. Our benefactor has arranged accounts at the local shops as well and asked for all of our expenses to be passed on to him. I know it is a quick turn in direction but we have made our minds up to do it and at our age such an offer is not to be turned away. One must take risks sometimes, do you not agree?’
‘Oh, I do. Truly.’ Wilhelmina had found her voice amidst the excitement, though she knew she would miss these three dear old ladies when they left. They were eccentric and interesting and had been supportive of her since the moment she’d met them. ‘You must give me your new address and I shall journeydown to see you as soon as you send word that you are settled and receiving company.’
‘Which is exactly what we thought you might say,’ Jean began and, pulling an envelope from her bag, she laid it on the table. ‘It is all here, my dear. The direction, the description and a short list of all the sights you might take in on the way down to us.’ She suddenly stopped. ‘You know, Wilhelmina, you are looking more beautiful today than I have ever seen you look. Perhaps finally your husband’s hold on you is loosening and you are allowing life to flow in again?’
‘We have heard you allotted Mr Phillip Moreland a dance or two at the Kellands’ ball last night?’ Christine said this. ‘And I must say that the small opportunity we had of meeting him at Elmsworth Manor when you were so very sick did impress us.’
‘We knew his grandparents, of course, and his father. The wife was more of a puzzle, for, while she was decidedly beautiful, she was also distant, and then she died extremely young.’
‘The Elmsworths have had their tragedies, that is for sure, but then, what ancient family has not? It seems betrayals and early deaths live in the blood of the aristocracy and show themselves in every generation.’ Mildred continued in the same vein, her frown heavy before she began to laugh. ‘But there are advantages, I think, in all the material boons of collections, paintings and books that have been gathered through the ages.’
Willa had to smile, given her earlier thoughts of the erotic collection of prints the old women had shown her in almost the first week of meeting them. She wondered what might happen to those in the upending of the McAllistair sisters’ living quarters.
But the time was ticking on and, although it seemed rude not to offer them tea and cakes, she really did have so little of it to spare before…
At that she stopped.
Her denouement? Her rebirth? Her delight?
Mildred saved her from saying anything when she suddenly stood, reminding her two other sisters of all they had to accomplish today and tomorrow and in the next week before they were whipped away south in a carriage to the town of Royal Tunbridge Wells and to another life.
Within ten minutes they were gone.
Phillip had given his servants and his cook the night off. He did not want others here when Wilhelmina arrived, for the assignation was fraught enough as it was without involving extra players.
He had sent his carriage to collect her too, reasoning that it would be less obvious. He held no insignia on his conveyance and was glad of it, for he wanted to protect her as much as he was able from the ever-prying eyes of others.
When he heard the doorbell ring he walked across the foyer and opened it.