Page 43 of Unmasked By a Captivating Lady
Would he ever seen her again?
His heart lurched sickeningly as he stared around his bedchamber, wondering what on earth he could do to fix it. It had all gone terribly wrong, deviating violently from his plan to woo her back, and he still couldn’t quite work out how it had happened.
He sighed heavily, sinking down onto the bed, trying to piece it together. He had felt so triumphant at first when she had responded to him in the garden. Yes, she had been angry – luminously angry – but as soon as he had touched her, it had seemed to fix everything between them. As if the touch of each other was instantly, dramatically healing.
He sighed again. Had he made a mistake, in doing what he had done to her, behind the tree? It had seemed so natural and instinctual at the time; just an extension of how they felt about each other, another step in his desire to claim her for his own. He knew how much she had enjoyed it at the time. He could still vividly see her face, quivering in ecstasy, and feel the way she had shuddered beneath his touch.
But it had all changed, as soon as it was over.
His heart started to beat harder still. It was hard to believe that such a sweet act of passion had been wrong, but it seemed that it had been in the circumstances. Instead of reassuring her of his love and desire for her, she had been ashamed. She hadn’t been able to look him in the eye afterwards. He had felt her shrinking from him, second by second, as she processed what he had just done.
Miles ran a distracted hand through his hair. He shouldn’t have pushed her so far. He had thought that it would bind them tighter to each other, reaffirm the bond between them, but instead, it had pushed her further away. She was a well brought up young lady, mostly ignorant about what happened between men and women, and it had shocked her. She didn’t know whether it was right or wrong.
And then, there had been the scene between them at the edge of the ballroom. The very public scene where she had slapped him, telling him to leave her alone. They had both been publicly humiliated, and her mother had dragged her out of the house, away from him. He had known in that moment that there was nothing more that he could do, at least tonight. It had killed him, but he had to stand back and let her go.
He fell back onto the bed, blinking back tears of frustration. To have come so close, to convincing her of his love…only to have it snatched away, once again. Was it fate telling him that as much as he pushed to be with her, it just wasn’t meant to be?
He stood up, quickly. Music wafted towards him, from the ballroom, directly below. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be in this room, alone, ruminating about Ara. He knew that his feelings would come back, return forcefully, tomorrow. But for now, he needed instant distraction, before his head and his heart exploded with the bitter disappointment of it all.
***
Miles hung back on the edge of the ballroom. The dance had resumed. At the moment, the orchestra were playing music for a Viennese waltz. The dancers were in each other’s arms, the men twirling the women around the room, their faces lit up with pleasure.
His heart tightened, as he sipped the glass of champagne that he had taken from a passing waiter. He knew that he didn’t need any more alcohol tonight; his head was already throbbing with the effects of all the whiskey he had consumed earlier that evening in Brown’s. The champagne might just tip him over the edge into a full migraine.
He spied Andrew, in amongst the dancers. He was leading Lady Marigold Greer around the room, gripping her tightly, smiling into her upturned face. Miles let out a silent sigh of relief. At least the earlier scene hadn’t entirely ruined the ball for his older brother.
His eyes drifted around the edges of the room. A few people nodded at him in acknowledgement, but he could see that their faces were a bit wary. No one seemed to know quite what to do, or how to treat him. Hewasstill the younger brother of the Duke of Lancaster, after all.
His face darkened imperceptibly. He knew that for these people, social status was everything. They would acknowledge him, but he knew that if Ara was still here, they would shun her as if she was a piece of rubbish left lying out in the street. She would be the scapegoat for it all. She was the one who would suffer the social ostracism that would surely follow, and there wasn’t a damn thing that he could do about it.
His gaze kept drifting around the room in a distracted way. What did any of it mean, anyway? These people were a part of his world; he had taken their approval of him for granted. But would it matter in the least if they all turned away from him, refusing to speak to him again? Would he really care, that much, to lose their good opinion?
His heart lurched. If he had Ara, then none of it would matter at all. He could be on a deserted island with her and be perfectly happy. He wouldn’t care if he didn’t speak to anyone else ever again…as long asshewas by his side.
Suddenly, he froze. On the other side of the room, he saw a woman, near the dancers.
It was Miss Lucy Edge.
And she was gazing straight at him.
***
He couldn’t move. He simply could not move a muscle as he watched her carefully making her way along the side of the ballroom, towards him. Was she intending to speak to him? Why on earth did she want to?
His eyes were rivetted on her. Lucy Edge. Carefully, he studied her. At this distance, she looked exactly the same as when he had last beheld her, all those years ago. He well remembered her tall, willowy figure, which tonight was accentuated by her sweeping pale blue gown, and her golden hair, swept up into an elaborate hairstyle. Once upon a time, he has trailed those golden tresses through his fingers. He had known each one of them as intimately as he knew himself.
His heart beat faster. She was still as beautiful as she had always been. But there was a difference now. Back then, her beauty had bowled him over, made his heart lurch sickeningly. Now, he could still appreciate it, but it was as if it didn’t quite touch him anymore. It was as if she was a statue in a museum that he admired but that didn’t affect him emotionally.
She was almost at his side. He took a deep breath, forcing a smile onto his face.
“My lord,” she said, sweeping into a curtsey, before rising and fixing him with a penetrative gaze. “It has been a long time…”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “Miss Edge. Indeed it has.” He hesitated. “You look lovely, as always.”
She smiled slightly, fanning herself, as she acknowledged the compliment. “You have not changed, my lord. I recognised you instantly.” She paused. “I was wondering whether you would reappear…after what happened here between you and the young lady, earlier this evening.”
His smile stiffened. “Yes, of course. I suppose it is good to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Everyone else seems determined to carry on as if it never happened.”
