Page 21 of Unmasked By a Captivating Lady
“Where are you going?” called Andrew.
“To Brown’s,” said Miles, over his shoulder. “Make my excuses to the old folk. I really need to get out of here, right now.”
***
He walked into the club, automatically heading towards his usual spot. He felt so confused and angry he barely glanced at the gentlemen who were already in there.
Within a minute, a waiter was at his shoulder. “Whisky sour,” he barked at the man. “Wait, make that two.”
The waiter drifted away. He sat back in the upholstered armchair, trying to breathe deeply.
He simply could not believe it. Lucy Edge. The woman who he had loved and lost, all those years ago. The woman who was the dark mark on his past. The woman who was the reason that he didn’t have a heart to give to any other woman. The woman who was the reason he had vowed that he would never marry.
The drinks arrived. Without hesitating he picked up one, downing it quickly. The alcohol hit his bloodstream, warming him all over. It felt like liquid gold.
He picked up the next drink, sipping it slowly, his face twisting. He had thought that she was married. That had been the reason, at least, that she had claimed that he could no longer court her. She had found a man, richer than he was, who had asked if she would be his wife. And Lucy – despite claiming that she loved only him – had accepted.
He had never bothered to check the wedding notices. He had been heartbroken, retreating to the country estate, licking his wounds like an injured dog. And he had never seen, or heard of her, again. That was, until this evening, when she had suddenly appeared on his brother’s eligible young ladies’ list for the upcoming ball.
How could she,he thought, his heart twisting again.How could she have done that to him, and then never even marry the man?
He had begged and pleaded with her to stay with him. He knew that he didn’t have as much money as the earl who had fallen in love with her, and probably never would. As the younger son of a duke he had status, but not much available cash. It would be like that until his father passed away, and his inheritance was released.
But immediate money had meant more to Lucy than love.
He sipped his drink reflectively. He was honour bound to attend this damn ball, but there was no way that he wanted to now. He didn’t want to see her ever again. It would only be a bitter reminder of all that he had lost, and what she had done to him.
Suddenly, his thoughts veered to Ara. Sweet, feisty Ara. A woman that he could have gotten very serious about, if Lucy Edge had never entered his life.
He no longer had a heart to offer to any other woman. And as attracted as he was to Ara, that was the bitter truth of it.
His mind turned back in time. To the time when he had been young, and wildly in love. To the time when it seemed that love was indeed possible…
***
He had only been two and twenty when he had seen her, across that crowded ballroom.
She had stood out like a beacon in the crowd of young ladies. Tall and willowy, she had golden hair that shone in the candlelight like spun gold. She had been clutching a glass of champagne, and laughing, her blue eyes shining as she spoke to someone. She was beautiful.
He had quickly sidled over, seeking an introduction. Miss Lucy Edge had recently arrived in London from the midlands, on her very first season. She was only eighteen years old. They had struck up a conversation, and it hadn’t been long before he was thinking about her every night and every day.
Lucy had seemed to return his affection and they had quickly become inseparable, attending balls and other social functions together. It had been a whirlwind summer, when they had first fallen in love. A summer that he would never forget, as long as he lived.
It was only after the season was over, and Lucy returned to her country home near Nottingham, that things had changed. He had visited her as often as he could, but the distance had changed her somehow. Every time that he visited she seemed a little more distant, a little less amorous, a little less pleased to see him.
And then she had told him, one day, as they had strolled through the gardens of her estate. That she couldn’t marry him. That the Earl of Gainsborough had proposed to her, and she was accepting him. Her family were almost impoverished, she had said, in danger of losing their grand country estate. And Miles simply didn’t have access to the money she needed to help save it.
He had ridden out of her life, and he had never seen her again.
***
The waiter hovered at his elbow. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”
Miles glanced up at him. “Yes, you can. Another whisky sour.”
He was already half woozy with the alcohol, but suddenly he didn’t care if he staggered back home worse for wear. What did any of it matter? Lucy had taken his heart and stomped on it, breaking it forever, into a million pieces. He was no longer the man that he was, or indeed could have been.
The drink arrived. He nursed it, brooding.
