Page 36 of Unmasked By a Captivating Lady
Michaelson stared at him disbelievingly. “I understand perfectly. You would be a fool to miss this chance, old chap, to find happiness with a woman that you love, and who seems to love you too. It does not come along very often, my friend. You should grasp it with both hands.”
Miles gazed at him, slightly stupefied.
“As for the other lady,” continued Michaelson, “what should it matter if you see her again? You can acknowledge her, or not, but it is up to you how you deal with it.” He leant forward. “Yes, she broke your heart, badly by the sounds of it. We have all had broken hearts. But it should not stop you from trying for love again.”
Miles stared down into his tumbler, blinking back sudden tears. Michaelson made it all sound so straightforward, when it was anything but. How could he just declare himself to Ara after what he had done? Especially now, when he had publicly humiliated her?
A vision of her leapt vividly into his mind. The small, fierce, beautiful woman, who had trembled and gasped beneath his hands. Michaelson claimed he loved her. Was it possible that hewasin love with her, despite his broken heart? Had his heart somehow healed, against all odds, just by being with Ara?
He gazed up at the man sitting across from him. He simply didn’t know what to say. He felt as if a lightning bolt had suddenly forked through the roof and pierced his heart.
“It’s too late,” he said desperately. “She already knows that I lied to her. She will be at the ball now, and will have been introduced to my brother…”
“So?” asked Michaelson. “She knows. She was always going to find out, one way or the other. That is a given.” He paused. “It is what you do now that matters. If you want to salvageanythingthat is between you both, you need to leave this club and go to her…”
“Now?” Miles stared at him. “Try to talk to her, and explain myself, at the ball?”
Michaelson nodded. “Strike while the iron is hot, old chap. If you stay here, brooding about it, you will lose your courage again. By the time morning has come, you will have talked yourself out of it once more and the chance will be gone.” He gazed at Miles intently. “Do youwanta chance at happiness? Or are you content to nurse your wounds, year after year, turning into a bitter old man, pining over the one who got away?”
Miles shifted uneasily in his chair. He suddenly saw a vision of himself in years to come, if he didn’t try to fix things with Ara. A lonely, bitter old man, crying into his whiskey, bemoaning the broken heart that stopped him finding love again.
An opportunity had presented itself. Fate had intervened, in the boldest of ways. He could easily have missed Ara that day at the Tattersall’s horse auction. He could have decided not to go or arrived after she had left. It was a chance meeting, pure and simple.
A chance meeting that had opened up the world to him, once again. Would he throw that chance away, for lack of courage, or try to grasp it with both hands?
He picked up his tumbler, downing the contents, before standing up abruptly.
Michaelson stared up at him. His eyes were shining. “You are going to do it, then?”
Miles nodded quickly. He needed to go now, before he thought about it any further. While his blood was up.
“Well done, old chap,” said Michaelson slowly, smiling. “I am proud of you. And whatever happens, be proud of yourself for having the courage to do it. For taking that chance, instead of running away.”
Miles gazed at him steadily. Then he reached out his hand to the man. Michaelson took it, and they shook.
“Thank you,” he said slowly. “Thank you for telling me the truth. I needed a real friend, Michaelson, and you are one of the best. I shall not forget this.”
Michaelson grinned. “That is quite alright, my lord.” He gazed around the almost empty club. “I shall probably regret it after you have left. I think that your custom alone has been keeping me afloat tonight.”
Chapter 18
Ara leant against Ruth heavily as they circumnavigated the dance area. She still felt so stunned that she could barely think clearly. And it was only at her mother’s insistence that she had left the private alcove that they had retreated to at all.
“Why is she making us do this?” she hissed to her cousin. “Why will she not let us leave this terrible ball, after what has happened?”
Ruth sighed. “I would probably prefer to leave as well, dearest, in the circumstances.” She paused. “But my aunt is insistent that we put on a brave face, and not let anyone know that something has occurred….”
“It is cruel,” muttered Ara, staring at the dancers, who were performing a quadrille. “I will never understand her. Never.”
Ruth sighed again. “I simply cannot believe that the young man fooled us like he did,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “Especially you, Ara. I thought that he was in love with you…”
Ara felt tears spring into her own eyes. Fiercely, she held them back.
I will not let him win,she thought.I will not cry over him. I will not!
“Excuse me,” said a voice, deep and manly, just behind them. “It is Miss Arabella Nott, isn’t it?”
Ara spun around. It was the Duke of Lancaster, standing there, addressing her. TherealDuke of Lancaster.
