Miss Taygete’s Sweet Sister’s Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

Electra frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  Taygete pressed her lips together, realizing she’d said too much.

  “That’s not true,” Lorena said with a bittersweet expression. “Hugh kissed you because he saw something in you.”

  Taygete looked at her. “How do you know?”

  Genie answered with a smile. “Because, that’s how it was for Hugh’s parents.”

  The room grew silent, and Taygete realized she’d been right. These women did have answers about Hugh, understanding and knowledge that could possibly help her end whatever game Hugh was playing. Yet at the same time, she sensed that they could make it worse.

  “What do his parents have to do with him kissing me?” Taygete asked. As far as she knew, Hugh had said his mother’s choice had been Maia.

  Lorena shared a looked with Genie and then turned to Taygete again. “Ray told us a story a few years ago. It was years after Maia’s death, and Ray thought it time for his brother to remarry.”

  Genie cut in. “Ray feared something happening to Hugh and him having to become the Marquess of Edvoy.”

  Lorena nodded. “Ray wanted Hugh to have heirs and soon, so Ray suggested Hugh join the Season, sure he’d see the one and kiss her just as their father had done to their mother.”

  “You mean the former Marquess of Edvoy kissed his wife upon meeting her?” Electra asked.

  Lorena nodded. “He knew she was the one, so he kissed her.” Her eyes moved to Taygete. “So if Hugh kissed you, it means he saw something in you.”

  Taygete leaned back in her chair and concentrated on breathing. Lorena’s words were the very last thing she needed to hear. She didn’t want to believe that Hugh thought her the one, especially considering he’d married Maia.

  Electra asked the question Taygete wanted to. “But if Tay was the one, why marry Maia?”

  Lorena shook her head. “I don’t know, but I do know that Hugh’s father had just died that same year and recall Francis mentioning that his mother was not doing well.”

  Genie nodded. “The marchioness was grief-stricken at the loss of her husband. They’d truly been in love.”

  And Maia had been his mother’s choice.

  It made sense now. Hugh had been worried about his mother, and she remembered that Hugh’s mother had died shortly after Maia and Artemis. Were the deaths all connected? Taygete now felt that much more guilt. In her selfishness, she’d killed Hugh’s mother as well by letting her childish emotions lead both Maia and Artemis to their deaths.

  All because she couldn’t let Hugh go.

  It had been a letter that prompted Maia’s return to Southampton, a letter Taygete had written while she’d been three sheets to the wind, confessing her love for her sister’s husband and how Maia was living the life that should have been hers.

  When Hugh had arrived to tell the family that Maia had died on her way to Southampton, Taygete had known. She’d caused the death. Her sister had been coming to confront her.

  Taygete had been young and foolish at sixteen. Drinking with a few of the sailors had been the worst decision of her life, and when Lieutenant Harris, who had also been deep in his cups that night, had confessed to accidentally sending the letter off the next morning with a few of his own, Taygete had wanted to bury herself in a dark hole and never come out.

  Her sister and niece were gone because of her and the least Taygete could do was honor them by never marrying. She’d taken that from Maia, and taken the future away from Artemis. Taygete could no longer have one for herself. It would be unfair and even more so if she married Hugh.

  “There must be much going on in your head,” Alice said to Taygete, which returned her mind to the room.

  Taygete sighed. “I can’t marry Hugh.”

  “Tay,” Electra said. “Maia would never want you to be alone.”

  Her sister didn’t know what she’d done, and yet Taygete knew she was right. Maia had been sweeter than any woman should be and as the second eldest, she’d naturally had a mother’s spirit, taking care of them all, including Titan, who’d been older.

  “I’m not sure what we’re discussing,” Sophia said calmly and with all the airs of a lady.

  Taygete looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  The Duchess of Cort held her gaze and said, “If Hugh is discussing you with the men, then there’s nothing left to discuss.”

  Lorena nodded. “Except for flowers.”

  “And her gown,” Genie added.

  “I hope she stays in London,” Florence said. “I like her.”

  “Me, too,” Alice said to Florence with a grin. “I’m sure she could find a way to convince Hugh to allow her to work at the hospital here.”

  “If she must,” Florence said.

  Taygete lifted her hands to stop the conversation, though her body shook with fear. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “Oh, but you do.” Lorena tilted her head and stared at her. “You’re going to marry Hugh.”

  “No.” Taygete straightened. “Didn’t you hear me? I won’t.”

  “Oh, but you will,” Sophia murmured.

  “And if I might add…” Alice moved to the edge of her seat. “Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”

  “No.” Taygete looked at them all as the panic rose in her throat. “I won’t! I can’t.” They didn’t understand. No one in the room understood.

  And that was her fault. They seemed to like her. They wanted what was best for her, she knew, but no one really knew who she was. Not even her own family.

  “I can’t,” she said again.

  Lorena smiled. “I give it two weeks.”

  The scoff was from the maid again, who was standing in the corner. “You said he’s waited eight years. I say by week’s end, she’ll be seeing things his way.”

  Sophia pointed to the maid. “Jane is right. Hugh isn’t going to wait two weeks.”

  “I don’t know,” Genie said to Sophia. “It took Morris months to get you.”

  Sophia frowned and looked away in thought before looking Taygete over and declaring, “Not even a week.”

  Taygete straightened again. Did she appear that weak?

  What was she thinking? “I won’t marry Hugh.”

  “This is so wonderful,” Electra whispered with tears in her eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Tay.”

  Taygete stood and tried a different tactic. “Hugh does not wish to marry me. He wishes to bed me.”

  Only Electra flinched.

  Lorena kept smiling when she said, “I’m sure he wishes to do that as well, but understand that the men do not call a meeting about making a woman their mistress. Meetings are called about wives.”

  Taygete fell back into her chair. Realizing that Lorena’s words made sense didn’t make her feel any better at all.

  She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t marry Hugh.

  If it came to it, she’d have to tell him the truth.

  That was what she was thinking when Sudworth came to the room. “The men are finishing their meeting and the rest of the guests have arrived.”

  “Thank you, Sudworth,” Lorena said. “And could you tell me anything else they said in the room?”

  The butler shook his head. “I’m afraid I cannot.”

  Lorena narrowed her eyes at the man, who was obviously keeping something from her, but Sudworth bowed and left.

  The noise from the hall soon filled the room, and Taygete was introduced to a few more people she’d never met before Hugh arrived at her side.

  She started to move away, but his hand went to her lower back and gripped the material. Again, she was unable to move unless she wished to lose buttons along the way. She met his eyes. “Let me go.”

  Hugh’s gaze was warm as it moved over her face, and though he didn’t say much, his expression said everything she dreaded. “No. I won’t let you go.”

  Not this time.

  A combustion of emotions made Taygete’s skin tingle, and she fought to pull
in breaths as she stared at him, but before her mind could create words, the dinner bell rang.

  “After you,” he said.

  Taygete turned and allowed Hugh to escort her from the room, though it wasn’t as though she’d had a choice. As she’d suspected, he wouldn’t let her go.

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  CHAPTER NINETEEN

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  Taygete had already known the people surrounding her were unusual. The open display of affection, the jokes that would make other women faint, and the fact that the only people in their correct seats for dinner were the host and hostess, showed they were more than unusual. In the eyes of the ton, Taygete was sure they were outright barbaric. Still, she felt at ease around them, even after pouring her heart out to a group of women she barely knew.

  She was still unsure about the conversation she’d had with the Spinsters and her sister. Electra hadn’t reacted to anything Taygete said as she’d thought she would. She’d been just as accepting as the others.

  It was Taygete who was unwilling to accept what had been said. Lorena and the others had made it sound as though she’d had no choice, and Hugh’s presence thereafter had all but confirmed it.

  Hugh was set on marrying her, and Taygete didn’t know how to react. She knew she had to change his mind but wished to find another way to do so that wouldn’t include her confessing the truth about the letter.

  Clearly, Hugh didn’t know about it or she was sure he’d have confronted her about it.

  She tried to think of another way to change his mind while she looked around the table.

  Somewhere before the first course, the rain had lessened, and Alcyone and their mother had arrived after receiving Lorena’s invitation. Mary found herself speaking to Sophia’s father, the Viscount of Dovehaven, Lady Dovehaven, who was Morris’ mother, and Maura’s mother, who told Taygete to call her Aunt Tilda. They had all been invited to meet the Bellenger family, or as everyone kept saying, Hugh’s family.

  Alcyone was seated by Maura. Since then, the two had kept their heads together, discussing something in private. Electra sat between Julius and William, who both flirted with her shamelessly, and Taygete had been placed by Hugh, who would not let her forget his presence once.

  She’d tried to concentrate on the food but then had done it so well it seemed to vanish from her plate much sooner than the others, so she’d tried for conversation with anyone but Hugh.

  This, he would not allow.

  And that frustrated her, since he’d allowed it more than once in the past.

  “Would you like more wine?” His breath brushed her ear.

  She leaned away and shook her head. “No, thank you.” What she wouldn’t mind, however, was another serving of the roast duck, but since he was not at home, she did what Society would expect and was content with her portion.

  Sometime later, when the conversation had moved on to politics, some of the men took more food, and Taygete silently moaned as she watched Hugh reach for another helping, laughing with the people on the other end of the table.

  Then she froze and watched as, without giving himself away, he slipped his plate closer to hers and, using his fork, skirted a portion of his food onto her plate, all the while acting as though nothing were occurring.

  She blinked and looked at him before looking at the rest of the table. No one seemed to have noticed what he’d done. He waited a moment or so before looking in her direction and, without words and only the small tilt of a brow, he asked if she was content.

  Something warm settled inside her and though she tried to ignore it, under Hugh’s watchful gaze it only grew.

  How had he known? Was there something in her face that had given her away? She already knew herself to be slightly larger than the other women.

  For only a fleeting second, she tried to think of what life would be like if she did accept his proposal.

  He leaned toward her again and asked, “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head and decided it was time to fill her mouth with food to avoid him. “Nothing.” She stuck a piece of the meat between her lips and busied herself with chewing.

  This did not seem to steer Hugh away.

  “Would you like more?” he whispered in her ear.

  His breath was warm, and she recalled that his mouth had a far better taste than anything else. The flavor of the duck was lost on her at his nearness.

  “Perhaps we should make a signal, you and I,” he said. “Whenever you want more, you could touch me, and I’ll know.” His eyes were like coaxing heat.

  She put her fork down, because her hands had started to tremble, and spoke when her mouth was empty. “That makes no sense. We touch all the time. I’m never that hungry.” Though she was. She simply would never tell him.

  “Then you could ask me for something else,” he offered. “Anything you want.”

  A touch in exchange for what?

  It seemed like a deadly game if ever she'd heard one.

  Still, curiosity made her ask, “So, where would I touch you if I wanted more food?”

  He rested his hand on top of hers at the table and then slipped it underneath and out of sight. “Like this. Take my hand, and I’ll know.”

  “But what if I touch your hand by accident?”

  His eyes flickered and he took her hand and rested it against his hard thigh, forcing her to grab him. She felt the muscle underneath her fingers and her breath caught.

  His voice was darker, and she was thankful when he whispered his next words. “Touch me there, and I’ll know you’re hungry for more.”

  Taygete was not that innocent. At twenty and six, she knew what he was promising. She’d touched herself to thoughts of him, though she’d had no clue how to make the hungry aching of her body go away.

  But Hugh knew how. She knew it in her very soul. She also knew that if she left him, he’d not take her hunger but simply leave her with a greater one.

  She allowed her hand to rest there a moment longer but then pulled it away and said, “Perhaps it’s best I simply whisper my request in your ear.”

  “Whatever you wish.” His eyes seemed to promise that, and she felt as though his hands had grazed her cheek with it. That was the power of his eyes.

  “The signal to leave me alone will be me looking elsewhere. I say we practice this,” she said right before her eyes moved away.

  Hugh’s hand settled on her thigh, and she was struck motionless as he began to hike up her skirt.

  The feel of air on her stockinged calves pushed her into motion. She covered his hand with her own and glared at him.

  He smiled. “This is how I touch you when I want your attention.” Then he leaned even closer and said directly in her ear, “And if you refuse to give it to me, I’ll touch you in other places as well.”

  She gripped the table with the hand she still had free, sure she’d fall from her chair if she didn’t.

  Frustration made her say, “Choose someone else.”

  They were the only words she had at the moment. She wanted him and couldn’t tell him no. Therefore, she needed him to move on, to give his attention to another woman, and let her go. Sophia was right. She was weak where he was concerned and admitted that she’d thought about giving into Hugh if only for a short time. Better to have him for a day than to never have him at all.

  There was punishment in that. She’d miss him when their time came to an end, and more so, she’d know exactly what she’d had when it was gone. He'd give it to his wife, the woman she could never be.

  He had to choose someone else. For the sake of his title and his children.

  His fingers bunched in her skirts again, his own voice frustrated as well. “I already did.” Then he leaned away and said, “I’ll not make that mistake again.”

  The women were right. Hugh intended to marry her.r />
  It was the best and worst thing that could have ever happened to her, but it was far too late for that reality.

  Taygete blinked at him then looked away. She found that they had an audience. Her mother, Lord Dovehaven, and his wife were staring at them. Mary had tears in her eyes. Not from pain but something much worse.

  Hope.

  Taygete’s eyes moved to Electra and found her smiling at them as well. Had Electra told their mother what had been discussed, or had Mary guessed at something that wasn’t so?

  Taygete closed her eyes and knew that whatever she came up with, she’d have to do it soon. She’d have to end this before more people were hurt.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY

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  Hugh could hear the shouting long before his foot crossed the threshold. Lord Harving was not a man to hold back his temper and never before had Hugh met a gentleman who complained more. A few times in the past, Hugh had known him to clear a room, and the men of both parties cringed when he stood to speak in Parliament.

  Nothing was ever to his liking and worse, he felt everyone had to know it. But all could be forgiven, even if Harving did have a nasal voice. The sound of it drove some men mad and caused others to beg for deafness to befall them.

  If there was ever a man who should keep his mouth closed, it would be Harving.

  But on this one occasion, Hugh understood Harving’s anger. A family painting had gone missing. Who would steal the portrait of the Marquess of Harving? Hugh had not a clue, but the painting had nonetheless vanished.

  Hugh gazed around the house as he moved, taking everything in. The paintings, the priceless art, the expensive furniture, the servants and guessing and their moods. If someone wished to steal from Lord Harving, Hugh counted more than twenty objects that could have easily been slipped into a pocket and would fetch more than the portrait of a dead man. That knowledge helped him start thinking up ideas about the thief. But before he jumped to any conclusions, he would speak to Harving.