Page 57 of No One's Bride
Ailsa was still thinking about the viscount when Delphine helped her into the vibrant blue gown. The material hugged every curve and was sure to capture Lord Denton’s eye.
A muscle in Ailsa’s jaw twitched.
Attracting a man had never been a priority.
She disliked the game of flirtation. Despised these mistrustful feelings. Hated the suspicious train of her thoughts.
Perhaps she should suggest breaking the spell tonight. Take comfort in the knowledge things would return to normality. Persuade herself she didn’t long for his passionate kisses. Didn’t crave every forbidden touch.
When the St Clairs’ carriage arrived to ferry her to Lady Winfield’s ball, it was Nicholas St Clair who stepped down to the pavement to greet her. He must have sensed her disappointment. Where was the man who stole her breath? The man who’d made indecent proposals?
Nicholas smiled and offered his hand. “How are you finding life at Fortune’s Den? With Aaron at the helm, it must be like living in Hades.”
Ailsa pushed her troubles aside and managed a chuckle. “Mr Chance is quite rigid in his opinions. He rules with an iron fist.” It was obvious the King of Clubs loved his family. However, she feared his need to protect his kin was a terrible weakness.
Nicholas handed her into the carriage. “I’ve never known a man work so hard. How he survives on four hours sleep is anyone’s guess.”
Ailsa sat next to Helen, who still looked peaky. Lord Denton was noticeably absent, though Helen made excuses on her brother’s behalf.
“Sebastian agreed to meet us there. He went out earlier and was somewhat delayed. Doubtless he’s taken it upon himself to find your missingUtopia.”
Or he was burning notes and reciting the releasing spell.
“I’ve not spoken to him since last night.” Not since they’d returned to Fortune’s Den after visiting Professor Mangold. Now Helen knew about the intruder and Mr Hibbet’s murder, Ailsa added, “He was supposed to be my protector yet seems consumed by his own problems of late.”
Helen patted Ailsa’s hand. “You know how he is. Stubborn to a fault. Today, he asked if I still had Michael’s letters. If he’d mentioned his friends aboardThe Perseus. I fear he’s letting grief consume him again.”
The marked change coincided with his conversation with the professor and the discussion about Michael’s grimoire. Perhaps he’d had a sudden epiphany. Either way, she would confront him tonight and seek an explanation.
“I’m sure the ball will revive his spirits,” Helen added.
Ailsa used the thirty-minute journey across town to ask about Lord Denton’s vow to remain unmarried until he was fifty. “Was he upset when ye broke yer vow?” she asked Nicholas.
The man shifted in his seat. “Upset is an understatement.”
“Did ye nae think to tell him ye were in love?”
“It was difficult,” Helen said, blinking back tears. “The day we lost Michael, the old Sebastian died too. He put everything into his relationship with Nicholas and presumed they would be companions into their dotage. In his grief, he was looking for a distraction, a replacement. I didn’t want to be the one who took that away from him.”
Lord Denton appeared confident and self-assured, a man in complete control of his destiny. To some extent, he was. But now she knew loneliness clung to him like a malevolent spirit. A demon he couldn’t shake.
“He seems happy you’re married.” The viscount spoke fondly of the couple, and Ailsa had witnessed how caring and attentive he was to his sister.
“He is.” Helen glanced at Nicholas. Silent words passed between them. “Though we don’t see him as often as we’d like.”
“Have ye told him ye’re with child?”
Helen’s eyes widened, and her hand fluttered to her throat. “Good heavens! Is it obvious? I told him I’d eaten something disagreeable.”
“We decided to wait before confirming the news,” Nicholas added, though his tone said he didn’t necessarily agree. “Even so, Denton is astute enough to guess.”
Only a week ago, Ailsa would have made a joke at the viscount’s expense, called him gruff and incapable of sharing in anyone’s good fortune. Now, the need to defend him and fight his battles flowed in her blood.
“May I be so bold as to ask why?”
Nicholas’ weary sigh said he had struggled with the decision. “Deep down, Sebastian has a fear of losing those he loves. Loss has been an ever-present theme in his life, hence his desire to delay forming meaningful attachments.”
Yes, Lord Denton preferred to observe life from behind a barricade, to command those around him from a high tower. When one stripped away the impenetrable armour, what lay beneath?
