Page 74 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
The earl’s eyes went wide. “Dear God, it’s not Gina who truly holds your attention, but the tart I married. She’s spreading her le—”
The jab was quick and hard. He heard the snap of cartilage despite the earl’s groan. He took satisfaction in it. “Watch your words where she is concerned.”
“She’s a cunning—”
Another quick jab, another groan.
“You’re not listening, Landsdowne.”
“She’s not worthy of your devotion, Rexton. She won’t return it in kind.” His sentiments were muffled because he was holding a handkerchief to his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood.
Rexton hadn’t earned her devotion. She was with him because she wanted his assistance. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t worthy of devotion or respect. “I have to ask myself, Landsdowne, what failings in you caused her to turn to another man, a footman for God’s sake?” No longer able to stand touching him, he shoved the earl back. Then took a step nearer. Landsdowne flinched. “My mother taught me if I had nothing good to say about a person, I should hold my tongue. Heed the advice and heed it well. Because if I hear you have directed a single unkind word in Tillie’s direction, rumors regarding your lack of... virility might begin making the rounds. I have enough friends and family to ensure the speculations travel very quickly. Mark my words, there won’t be a place you can appear where you won’t feel judgment. Damnation, I might just do it anyway so you have a clearer understanding of how your former wife feels.”
“She deserves to be snubbed and gossiped about.”
“No, Landsdowne, she does not. And I think you damned well know it.”
“She wanted a divorce. She didn’t care about the damned scandal.”
“And again, I must wonder why. I know you were unfaithful. But I suspect there was more to it than that. Pray, if I ever find out the specifics, that I don’t have a need to strike you again.”
Spinning on his heel, he left Landsdowne blubbering some sort of unintelligible sounds. The man had been unfaithful. He had divorced his wife. Yet he moved about in Society with no consequence while Tillie was denied the opportunity to waltz in a crowded ballroom, to waltz in Rexton’s arms. He’d never considered the unfairness of it. He was certainly considering it now.
Wearing her nightdress and dressing gown, sitting in a chair, Tillie looked longingly out her bedchamber window, miserably waiting for Gina’s return from the ball. She thought of Rexton waltzing with her sister, waltzing with any number of young ladies, and she longed to be the one in his arms. She imagined flirting with him in the ballroom, strolling through a shadowed garden, sneaking in a kiss behind a trellis.
Her first Season, while she was unattached to a man or scandal, she’d enjoyed herself immensely: laughing, discussing various gentlemen’s attributes, and gossiping. She sighed. She’d never again gossip and not just because she wouldn’t be welcomed into a ballroom, but because she now understood how much it hurt and how often there was more to the story than anyone truly realized.
A thrill shot through her as she saw the carriage pulling into the drive, illuminated by the gas lamps. Jumping to her feet, she positioned herself behind the drawn aside curtain so she could peer out without her silhouette being visible—she didn’t want to look like some child with her nose pressed to the glass of a sweet shop—and watched as Rexton climbed out through the door the footman had opened for him. His movements were so smooth, so dashing. Even something as simple as the sight of him disembarking from a conveyance caused her stomach to flutter with anticipation.
He handed Gina down, said something which Tillie couldn’t hear. Her sister tossed her head back and laughed. She envied her the ease of her laughter and the fact she’d been fortunate enough to have the marquess elicit the sound from her. They seemed extremely comfortable in each other’s company.
The maid followed. Tillie lost sight of them as they neared the front door. Not even a minute later, Rexton was approaching the carriage. He stopped, swept his hat from his head, and gazed up at her window. Perhaps she wasn’t as invisible as she thought or maybe he felt her watching him. Her mouth went dry as a shiver of delight raced through her because he’d taken the time to look up.
Then he clambered aboard and the vehicle took off. She knew it wasn’t going to go far: just to the end of the drive where it would wait for her in shadows.
Schooling her features to show none of her anticipation, she settled into her chair and opened the book that had been keeping her company or might have if her mind hadn’t wandered so many times this evening. She’d left the door to her bedchamber open wide so she wasn’t surprised when Gina passed by, stopped, and walked in.
“Oh, you’re still up, I see.”
Tillie set the book aside. “I can’t sleep until you’re home safe. How did your evening go?”
“Splendid. A dozen dances with various lords. Much tittering with ladies. The Duchess of Lovingdon has taken me under her wing—no doubt at her brother’s behest. He disappeared for a bit.”
She didn’t want to think that he might have secreted some lady away for a tryst in the garden. They had an understanding. He wouldn’t break his promise not to spend time with another woman. But then Downie had made the same promise before God, and he’d broken it easily enough. “Did he dance much?”
She hated that she’d asked, that she sounded like a possessive wife.
“He waltzed with me, of course. Twice. But other than that I didn’t see him circling anyone else about the ballroom.”
“I wonder where he went then.”
“To play cards perhaps.” Gina sat on the edge of the bed. “I think he’s secretly courting you.”
“What a silly notion.”
“You are the only thing we talk about.”
Tillie wasn’t going to let on how much that pleased her. “That must have been a short conversation.”
