Page 35 of Passions of a Wicked Earl
Westcliffe chuckled. “No need. Simply inform me, and I shall see to the matter, for both of you.”
She knew firsthand what sort of beating an unfortunate fellow would take if Westcliffe was displeased, yet she couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through her because he’d see to her honor. She touched the fan to her right cheek. “Yes.” To her left. “No.”
“What are the questions?” Beth asked.
“Across the room, a man might catch your attention, then tilt his head toward the terrace, perhaps wanting an assignation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“The answer should always be no,” Westcliffe fairly growled. “If you wish to retain your reputation, which I highly recommend if your intention is to find a suitable husband.”
“If I said yes, I suppose you would deal with him for inviting me to sin in the first place,” Beth said.
“Most certainly,” he assured her.
Claire was amazed that her sister could be so at ease with this man. How was it that she had failed to recognize the truth about him when she was that age? She snapped the fan closed. “I wish to speak with you.” She extended it toward her sister. “Closing the fan does signal that you wish to speak with someone. And I do wish to speak with my husband now—privately. We’ll continue the lessons later.”
“But—”
“Later, Beth. I’ll meet you in the parlor.”
“I can’t imagine that anything you have to say—”
“Beth.”
She gave a little pout. “Oh, all right. But we’ll have to continue much later, as we’re going to the park. We were simply waiting for you to awaken from your nap.”
“We?” Claire repeated.
“Yes. Westcliffe has consented to accompany us. It would be good for us to be seen out and about before the ball tomorrow night. I shall grab our hats and parasols while you have your little discussion.” Waving her fan, she fairly waltzed from the room.
“You’re going to have to keep a close watch over her,” Westcliffe said.
“Yes, I fear so.”
As though needing to put distance between them, now that they were alone, he hoisted himself up, walked around his desk, and took his chair. He lounged back in it, his dark gaze riveted on her. He arched an eyebrow. “You wished to talk?”
Whatever she’d meant to discuss with him escaped her mind as one overriding thought dominated. “The park? We’re going to the park? People will be about, will they not?”
“A good many people will be about.”
She nodded absently. Knowing the ball would be difficult, that her husband’s indiscretions were not secret, she’d been preparing herself for it. But this moment seemed too soon.
As though reading her thoughts, he said quietly, “It’ll make tomorrow night easier.”
“I had hoped all the attention would be on Beth, but I suspect there will be some speculation regarding me—us.”
“You must have anticipated that before you agreed to give her a Season.”
“She’s very difficult to say no to.”
He gave her a wry grin. “So I’ve discovered.”
Her mouth suddenly dry, her stomach a tangle of knots, she suggested, “You and Beth could go without me.”
“You’re going to have to face them all sooner or later, Claire. Would it not be better when it is not with the press of bodies, and escape is a tad more difficult?”
She realized he’d given it thought and drawn conclusions about the unconscionable position he’d placed her in. At that moment, she hated him for not being discreet. But neither could she deny the role she’d played in bringing this about with her childish behavior years before.
