Page 4 of Daring the Forbidden Earl
Nora laughed softly, visibly trying to disperse the tension. “I will be the first to admit that I found love when I wasn’t looking for it, but I think some part of your heart has to be open to the prospect. Liam would tell you the same thing, for he had more reason to despise the institution of marriage than most.” She paused. “Still, I believe it is out there for everyone, or I certainly wouldn’t have found it.”
After recently beginning a friendship with Nora, Johanna had learned everything about her past and her husband’s. They had both suffered gravely, in their own way, but that had been something of a comfort to Johanna, for if the Earl and Countess of Keswick had been able to overcome their demons and find one another, then maybe there was hope for her, too.
Or am I too old for that, now?
At five-and-twenty, she supposed she would be considered rather long in the tooth for marriage. And though there were always options, if a woman was desperate for companionship, she had vowed not to marry again for anything other than love. Even then, she was not sure love was enough of a foundation to ensure happiness. It had tricked her in the past; what if it tricked her again?
“Ah, if only you had a heart, then you might be fortunate.” Mark’s brown eyes met the blue of Johanna’s, showing nothing but contempt.
She glowered back at him. “I do have a heart.”
“I have never seen it, nor would you have been able to tolerate my uncle if you had a speck of warmth in there.” His hand pressed to his chest, making her imagine the thud of his heart beneath. Despite his harsh words, she had a strange desire to press her ear to his chest, to hear it beating for herself.
Johanna swallowed thickly. “I think the children at the orphanage would attest to my warmth.”
“Out of fear, most likely,” he replied. “You have a very… chilly demeanor, Mrs. Carlton. I would not call you maternal, though perhaps that has something to do with being the nephew of a lady nine years my junior. I fear we missed the opportunity for you to cradle me in your arms and smack my behind when I behaved mischievously.”
Speaking of mischief, she noticed a slight glint of irreverence in his eyes, and though she could not be certain, she thought she saw his gaze drop to her bosom for a moment.
I am imagining it. I must be imagining it. This gentleman would not look at me with any semblance of admiration after saying all of that.
Perhaps he had merely been distracted by the glitter of the diamond brooch that she wore pinned to the side of her sapphire, Empire-line gown. A gift from Nora.
“I believe I see an old acquaintance.” Johanna did not, but she could not abide the mockery of Mark’s tone, nor the chilliness inhisdemeanor a moment longer. She was contending with enough after the loss of her husband without taking additional blows from his nephew. And as the words, “I would not call you maternal,” chimed bitterly in her head, she knew she had to remove herself from the situation.
You may make jests at my expense, if it pleases you, but I will not tolerate… that.
She would not have anyone casting aspersions on her love for children, nor the maternal affection she would have given to her own, if she had been blessed with them. It was a blade that cut much too close to the bone.
Mark chuckled wryly. “Do you? How convenient.”
“You sound disappointed,” she remarked. “I thought you would be delighted to be rid of me. No doubt there are at least a handful of ladies here whom you have not already mesmerized with your flirtations. I would not want to keep you from them, or them from you, any longer. Good evening to you.”
She walked away before he could respond, though she had no intention of remaining in the suffocating ballroom. It had become much too warm, and it had little to do with the balmy, early-September breeze that drifted in through the windows. At least she did not have to endure the searing, jealous scowls of the other ladies present, for everyone was well aware of the relationship between her and Mark.
I am no threat to them.
How could she be, when Mark so obviously detested her? At the very least, he barely tolerated her.
Finding her way along the hallway, to the entrance hall where several other ladies had gathered to take in some fresher air, Johanna veered left and slipped through a doorway, into the drawing room at the back of the townhouse. She crossed the room as quickly as her feet would carry her, until she reached the door that would lead her into the garden.
Unlocking it with shaking hands, she stumbled out into the warm evening air. She sat down and bent forward, holding her head in her hands. Even then, she would not allow the tears to come.
“What right does he have to make me feel like this?” she whispered, not knowing if she ought to be livid, or enamored, or mortally offended. In the end, all three clashed within her, for though they never seemed to be able to hold a conversation without arguing, she could not rid her mind of the vision of him in the river, nor the ripple of his muscular back as he had played piano.
If only you did not know me as your uncle’s widow… Would matters be different between us?
Chapter Three
“Well, that seemed to go as pleasantly as ever,” Liam said, as he and Kenneth joined Mark on the outskirts of the dancing floor. Nora, on the other hand, had followed Johanna out of the ballroom.
Mark shrugged. “Our tongues cannot help but lash when we see one another.”
In truth, he felt somewhat guilty for some of the things he had said, but he would never admit that to his friends. When he was not hiding himself away from Johanna, he could not seem to stop nasty words from slipping out of his mouth. He did not want to be unkind, that was not in his nature, but he could only associate her with his uncle. Andthatman deserved a torrent of insults, though he had seen fit to die and thus avoid any such slurs.
“I could have sworn I felt the temperature drop,” Kenneth remarked. “Or perhaps it rose—I can never tell with the pair of you. You are like squabbling children.”
Mark tilted his head from side to side, cricking his neck. “That confrontation has worked up something of a thirst. Would any of you care for more champagne?” He nodded to his friends’ empty hands. “After all, it is all at your expense, Dear Westwood. It would be rude not to imbibe as much as possible and leave you with bottles that have not been consumed.”
