Or does he not know it’s hers?
“Are you aware that that child is mine, Your Grace?” she asked him boldly. At this point, there was no use beating around the bush.
He looked a little taken aback by her question. “Whose else would it be?”
“I don’t know … I just find it odd that you are talking to me like this knowing that I bore an illegitimate child from an unknown man.”’
“Is motherhood a disease, Miss Jones? In fact, I think it’s one of the most beautiful parts of life. And for you to have bore a child and continue along with your life is very inspiring.”
Matilda’s chest warmed at the compliment. “Was I to stay inside for the rest of my life?”
“Believe me, many ladies would do just that. They wouldn’t dare face the shame.”
The warmth dissipated until her chest felt hollow and cold. “The shame, Your Grace?”
“Yes.” Then, as if he suddenly noticed her tone, he switched courses. “No, wait, I hope you aren’t misunderstanding me.”
“You said I was strong because I was willing to face the shame of bearing an illegitimate child. Is that not what you meant?”
“I think there’s a misunderstanding here.” He was fast growing flustered. The sight would have made her smile had his words not sucked the joy out of her. “I merely meant that, you don’t care about what others say about you. You’re content with what you’ve done with your life.”
“I am content, am I? Is there any other observation you’ve made about my life, Your Grace?”
He sighed heavily. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve just put my foot in my mouth?”
Putting his foot in his mouth was an understatement but Matilda knew how to mind her manners. She smiled tightly, knowing full well how annoyed she looked by what he was saying but only caring that her words were correct. “It was very nice speaking with you, Your Grace. I should hurry along to my sister before she gets too far now.”
“Miss…”
“There seems to be a few ladies over there who are looking for your attention. I won’t keep you.” She bid him farewell in a manner that was appropriate. Because that was what she was. Appropriate, gentle when she needed to be, and capable of minding her manners perfectly.
But at the end of the day, she would always been known as the lady who threw her life away to bear a child for a man no one knew the identity of. Even to His Grace. For some reason, she had expected him to be different, but now she knew she had only been hoping for it.
Yet there was no escaping it. She was tainted by her scandal, even to the gentleman whose presence would always manage to stir untapped emotions within her.
She walked away from him, happy that he didn’t follow her this time. She ignored the twinge of regret for chasing him away, focusing instead on her annoyance. She shouldn’t have been talking with him like that anyway. She should have known her place from the very start.
She came to a steady stroll a decent distance from her sister. There. This was her place in life. Walking behind Elizabeth, ready to catch her if she stumbled, willing to be her safety net if she fell. Matilda had nothing going for her life other than her sister’s happiness and she would do well to remember that. She couldn’t focus on the Duke.
“Matilda,” Elizabeth said, turning to her. “We would like to return to the manor now.”
“Oh.” Matilda tried not to show her disappointment. But why was she disappointed in the first place? She had more than enough fresh air and sunshine to satisfy her. Surely it couldn’t be because of the young Duke she had left behind her? “All right, let us make our way back to the carriage then.”
Elizabeth’s suitor escorted her all the way. One look at the poor young sap told her that Elizabeth had him under her spell. She wouldn’t be surprised if he called on her every day and she was sure he would be professing his love for her in no time.
Matilda was near positive that Elizabeth didn’t know the effect she had on him. Her smile was magnetizing, and Matilda was half convinced the gentleman might have followed them straight into the carriage, manners be damned. It was a good thing she was here. Matilda gave him a polite, tight smile, an indication that this was now over.
“Oh, Matilda!” Matilda plastered a smile on her face, trying to banish her encounter with the Duke out of her head. “I’ve never met a gentleman so dreadfully dull!”
“Dull?” she blurted out a surprised laugh. “You looked to be having a great time with him.”
“I did?” Elizabeth looked genuinely surprised at that. “Matilda, I had to keep from yawning the entire time. I kept smiling at him because I didn’t want him to see that I was uninterested with his presence.”
“With the way you were smiling at him, Elizabeth, I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked you to marry him tomorrow. You really had him under your spell.”
“What spell?” Matilda chuckled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s fine. Then I assume you don’t want him to call on you again?”
“I cannot think of anything more painful than that, Matilda.”
“Strong words. I’ll take care of it. Your next time will go much better.”
“It’s so odd. He wasn’t so boring when we danced at the last ball. Although, now that I think back on it, we didn’t talk very much. I was merely smitten by his looks that I hadn’t really cared at the time.”
“Out of all your potential suitors, Elizabeth, I’m sure that you’ll find someone who is both handsome and interesting.”
“I hope so too.”
And for herself, Matilda hoped she could get the Duke out of her head. It wouldn’t do well to think about him so much. Eventually, she was bound to do or say something she would regret and Matilda would hate, more than anything, to jeopardize Elizabeth’s chances at a good marriage in any possible way.
Chapter 9
Balls were a tiresome part of the Season. At the very start, Timothy had been happy that he didn’t need to participate too much in such things, since there was no need to. He already had his wife picked out for him, and though it was a lot of things, Timothy preferred to focus on the buffer it created between him and the general expectation that he should be attending these things regularly to find a wife.
However, there he was again, attending yet another ball he didn’t need to attend. Timothy could think of many other things he could be doing with his time instead of being there, but none of those things held any allure. In fact, there was nothing he wanted more than to be there right now.
The object of his sudden need to attend waltzed in through the doors behind her sister and father. As lovely a lady as her sister, Timothy only had eyes for Miss Matilda Jones. She looked less done up than she did last time and as they settled into the ballroom, she instantly took up a background position.
Miss Elizabeth Jones stood a little way ahead of her and though they chattered a little, it wasn’t long before someone came to ask her for a dance. The ever-smiling lady was quick to accept, leaving Miss Matilda Jones alone with the Viscount.
Timothy knew that what he was doing was odd. He was fully aware of how strange attending a ball he previously hadn’t cared to attend in hopes of seeing a lone lady was, but he couldn’t help himself. Now that he saw her, he felt a little at ease, but the need to approach was rising steadily.
Their last encounter hadn’t ended well. When he saw her at the Square, he had thanked his lucky stars and hadn’t hesitated to approach her. Now, after he had so successfully made her upset, he didn’t think that was such a good idea.
But he couldn’t stand in the distance watching her all night, could he? What if she saw him?
Neither Jonathan nor Lady Nancy were present, and Timothy was suddenly glad for it. He was free to do as he wished, with no one around to remind him of his responsibilities. Timothy didn’t want to think about his obligations to the Earl of Ferbriand.
Timothy didn’t want the usual pressures of the friendship between the Earl and
Timothy’s late father pressuring him to do what he knew was his duty for years now. He only wanted to focus on Miss Jones.
Timothy stood a little straighter when she murmured something to her father and began walking away. His feet moved on their own accord, walking parallel to her but maintaining the same distance. She slipped out the back doors that led to the gardens and Timothy could only stop and stare for a moment.
Does she not know how unsafe it is for her to go out there on her own?
Without giving it another thought, Timothy made his way to her. Miss Jones slowed her stride to a slow saunter, head turning as she took in the blooming flowers around her. Timothy strolled behind her, content with only watching her for now. He knew he should make himself known but he didn’t know how.
Finally, she came to a stop at the garden’s gazebo and took a seat. She folded her hands in her lap, humming lightly to herself. Then she stopped and whipped her head in his direction. “Until when do you plan on following me, Your Grace?”
Timothy started.
Had she noticed me all this time?
He came closer, letting the lamps surrounding the gazebo shower his face. “I didn’t know you noticed me.”
“It’s hard not to when you can sense a pair of intense eyes on you since the moment you entered the ballroom.”
Her tone was light, even though she looked away from him. It gave him the confidence to come closer. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I only thought it was dangerous for you to wander outside by yourself.”’
“I should be wary of gentlemen who think it decent to follow me, shouldn’t I?”
Timothy nodded. “I suppose I’m only proving my own words, am I? Are you all right, My Lady?”
“I am,” she said with a nod. “The ballroom was growing stuffy so I wanted a little fresh air. Besides, I wanted to lure out the gentleman who didn’t want to approach me.”
“I was using the time to think about the best way to apologize to you,” he said without hesitation. There was no use lying about it. “I know I upset you when we last spoke and I don’t want that to be your lasting impression of me.”
“No need to worry, Your Grace, it isn’t. I know you had good intentions. I was being oversensitive.”
“On the contrary, Miss Jones, I was the one who wasn’t being sensitive enough.” He perched on the other side of bench. “I should have known not to bring up such a topic.”
“I don’t mind, truly. You’re curious. Anyone would be. Is there anything you would like to know?”
Timothy didn’t know what to say. There were a lot of things he wanted to know, but he knew better than to ask them. “It’s all right, Miss Jones.”
She nodded. Timothy couldn’t tell if the tiny sigh he heard her let out was one of relief. “Are you enjoying the ball, Your Grace?” she asked.
“I hate every second of it.”
She looked sharply at him, eyebrows shooting upwards. “You do?”
“Is that so hard to believe? There is nothing enjoyable about these balls. I don’t know why I bother to attend them.”
“I don’t mind them in the slightest. Of course, sometimes they can become a little overwhelming but a few minutes away from the masses is all I need.”
“Does that mean you will be heading back inside soon?”
She stared at him, as if she sensed the hidden question within the question. Then she shook her head. “I think I can spare a few more minutes.”
Timothy was going to take what he could get. He wanted to get closer to her. Their proximity was already inappropriate, but Timothy didn’t care about that. Her heady scent was willing him to come closer.
“Miss Elizabeth Jones seems to be enjoying herself immensely.”
“That she is,” she said. “I think if she could spend her entire night here, she would. I’m surprised there aren’t suitors knocking each other down to get to her.”
Timothy could hear the pride in her voice. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?”
“She truly is.” Her soft smile widened. But Timothy didn’t smile. He said his next words not knowing what would happen, knowing that he shouldn’t but not caring all the same. “I think her sister is much more beautiful.”
Her smile slipped off her face bit by bit. Timothy didn’t look away from her. In that moment, he didn’t think it was possible to. Her lashes casted a shadow on her cheeks as her eyes fell, then lifted once again to meet his.
They were searching, honey-colored eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. He didn’t look away from her gaze and, without hesitation, Timothy slowly lifted a hand to her hair. He tucked a stray lock behind her ear, his stomach tightening when she drew in a sharp breath.
“Your Grace … what are you doing?”
“Basking in your beauty.” Sickly sweet and poetic, it was the only thing he could think to say. And it was the truest thing he had allowed himself to say in a long time. Her brown curls bent around his finger and it took everything in him to let his hand fall.
“This isn’t right, Your Grace,” she murmured. But she didn’t pull away, so neither did he. Timothy couldn’t care less about what was right in that moment. He could only think about what he wanted. His arms around her. His lips on her lips.
“You’re right,” he said back. He let his gaze fall, knowing she was seeing exactly where he was looking. But he couldn’t help himself; her lips looked so inviting, slightly parted. “And I’m sorry.”
She could have pulled away. He should have, in all honesty. He shouldn’t have allowed it to go this far, but Timothy knew there was no turning back at this point.
Miss Jones was with him. Her breathing became heavy, her eyes filled with longing. She could have moved away from him, even slapped him if she was particularly offended, but she didn’t. She only waited, for his lips to draw closer, for them to meet.
He was about to kiss her. But before their lips could finally meet, there was a loud cry from behind them. The sound startled him, making him jump to his feet which, in past experiences, Timothy knew was never a good idea. His foot twisted to the side and he went crashing to the floor.
“Are you all right, Your Grace?”
Timothy nodded, not wanting to look up at her as shame washed over him. “That startled me.”
“I think it was a cat,” she said. Her voice was low, distant. It had Timothy looking up at her to see that the previous want in her eyes was gone. “I think it’s best that I go back inside.”
Timothy got to his feet the same time she did. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t give him the chance to respond to her. She merely curtsied, muttering a “Your Grace,” before walking away.
Timothy could only stare after her. The weight of what he almost did sank in and as she disappeared into the night, he felt regret consume him. But it wasn’t the type he should have felt. He should have regretted letting his emotions control him. He should have regretted the things he said to her, no matter how true they were. He shouldn’t have put himself in such a situation in the first place.
Instead, he was regretting the cry of the cat, hating it for disturbing their moment. Timothy knew that kissing her would have been a terrible mistake, but with the effects of the spell she casted over him still holding strong, Timothy could hardly focus on why.
He could only remember the way her lips had parted invitingly, the softness of her voice, laced with surprise at the things he was saying. He could still feel the softness of her hair on his fingertips and he rubbed them together, wishing he had the chance to touch her in some way again.
Is it normal to feel so strongly for someone I don’t know?
Timothy wasn’t sure about that, but he did know one thing for sure. He never felt this way about Lady Nancy. He felt protective of her, treated her kindly, like the little sister he never had. But such intense need for her touch was never present in her presence.
With Miss Jones, Timothy wanted to see more of her. He wanted to hear her voice. For t
he first time ever, he wished he hadn’t been burdened with such responsibilities, allowing him to do whatever he wanted.
But those responsibilities reigned sovereign in his life and Timothy knew that if he ever dared to step away from them, he would have one hell of a fight on his hands.
Chapter 10
What was I thinking?
The question had been playing over and over again in her head and Matilda didn’t think she’d reach the answer any time soon. To this moment, she couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to fall into such a situation. She was a lady, for heaven’s sake! No matter what the rumors said, she was proper and polite and she certainly did not make it a habit of kissing men in the garden during balls.
The Scandalous Secret 0f The Tempting Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 7