Page 2 of The Courtship Trap
“Oh, do you mean the scandalous night I spent with Lord Filminster while his father was being bludgeoned to death?”
Reaching out, Lily seized Brendan’s arm. He cooperated, stepping through the door and shutting it behind him before tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Or do you mean when I stepped forward to speak to the coroner in order to clear Lord Filminster’s name of those dreadful accusations of murder?”
Both Harriet and Cordelia drew back in wide-eyed horror at the girl’s unexpected temerity. Harriet had anticipated blushing, perhaps even suppressed tears—all of which would have served to alleviate the gnawing doubts plaguing her these past days. Not this.
“Or perhaps you mean our hasty marriage to protect my reputation?”
Lady Filminster paused, as if giving them a chance to answer, but no words were forthcoming. Harriet’s wits scrambled at this brazen conduct.
“Perhaps you mean when our footman attempted to abduct me and my husband bravely offered to take my place? Before our butler shot the man dead, of course.” The baroness tapped a finger to her lip as if thinking. “But, no, I think you must mean all of it.”
Settling the matter, Lady Filminster dropped her hand to gesture widely. “If I think about it, I must confess that I am. I am scandalous. Scandalously happy, that is!”
Harriet’s jaw hung open. The silly little chit who had confronted her not two weeks earlier was now transformed into a confident peeress. Could it be love that had prompted such a change? And was it true that Brendan had offered his own life in place of hers? Thus, Harriet’s internal certainty that she enthralled the men in her circle began to crumble as she tried to think of even one who would risk life and limb to save her. Her doubts rose once again, like the tide returning.
Steeling her nerves, Harriet reminded herself that the young woman had a talent for assaulting one’s senses with chatter, but her candor in the face of censure was … was … too damn provocative. How dare she flaunt her happiness so? This was not how ladies behaved in polite society.
Beside his wife, Brendan raised a hand to cover his mouth as he struggled not to burst out laughing. Lady Filminster herself appeared to be fighting the urge.
Turning to her husband, she lifted a hand to cup his neck. Tugging him down, she rose onto the tips of her toes.
Brendan dropped his hand from his mouth and leaned in, capturing her lips with his, more than willing to indulge his bride’s performance. He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer, and the young baroness was crushed against his hard chest. When he lifted his head, genuine admiration and true affection were painted across his features, asilent declaration that Lord and Lady Filminster were deeply in love.
Harriet gasped at the public display. It was not fashionable to like one’s husband, let alone be seen enjoying his company, but the new baroness, apparently, did not care what others might think. She was radiant with joy, the very image of a young woman who had achieved her dreams, and Harriet could not quell the vicious grip of envy at the sight of such unbridled happiness.
Lady Filminster dropped back onto her heels before turning to face the widow.
“Whomever it was that my husband was with before me, I am ever so grateful that they set him free … so that I could catch him.”
She tilted her chin in challenge, daring Harriet to speak. But Harriet could only open and close her mouth, grasping for a rebuttal to this brazen verbal assault.
And then—for just a moment—Harriet saw it. Pity.
It flashed in Lady Filminster’s chocolate-brown eyes, making Harriet’s mortification all the worse.
Releasing her husband, the baroness stepped forward and reached out, brushing the back of Harriet’s hand. Harriet flinched as if seared by a hot poker.
“I wish you the boundless joy of truly connecting with another person.”
The very ground shook beneath Harriet’s feet as, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, a door cracked open.
“Of opening your heart to another, and finding that you care more about them than your own self.”
The door yawned wider, even as Harriet fought frantically to slam it shut.
“I wish you a strong young husband and healthy children.”
Somehow, it would not yield, widening inexorably to reveal the memories she had long buried.
“And I wish you a long and full life filled with laughter, Lady Slight.”
The shell she had built over these many years shattered, and regret came spilling out, swirling around Harriet as the door now stood open, and she stared straight through.
A long-forgotten celebration of St. Valentine’s … a man gazing upon her with the same deep affection that Brendan had just displayed toward his bride, while in the present the horrid Lady Filminster cursed her with her cruel wishes of love, marriage, and progeny.
MEANWHILE IN FLORENCE
