But that wasn’t it. She knew that now. This was the first time she’d seen him in more than three years, and the same unquenchable yearning ached inside her with greater ferocity than ever before.
A growing heat warmed her cheeks, spread through her chest, then rushed down to her stomach, where it swirled like a bubbling whirlpool. Her unsettled emotions made it unquestionably clear that she wasn’t simply infatuated with him.
Lady Cecelia Randolph, who’d known from the day she’d first seen him that he was the only man she would ever love, felt gentle fingers hold and caress her heart. She loved the Earl of Haywood more today than she ever had. She ached with the pointlessness of it.
How stupid she was. How utterly, totally, unequivocally stupid. Her brother was Haywood’s mortal enemy. Why would he give someone who would come with such baggage a second look?
Haywood reached the bottom of the stairs and conversed with his host and hostess for several moments. They seemed inordinately pleased to see him. Not at all surprised. As if his presence had been anticipated, as if he’d been an invited guest.
Then he turned and entered the ballroom.
The welcome he received from the guests was very different tonight than it had been three years ago. The crowd parted to allow him to enter, then closed the circle to greet him as they would anyone who had been absent for such a long time. Anyone who’d returned from the war a decorated hero.
Celie tried to tear her gaze away from him, wished his towering form didn’t stand out so, wished she could lose him in the crowd. But she couldn’t. He was nearly a head taller than most of the other men in the room, his coffee-rich hair glistening beneath the flickering candles above him.
Everything about him drew notice. Especially the notice of every female in the room.
Celie looked from one group of gaping debutantes to another. They huddled in small circles like vultures, deciding the best way to gain an introduction to the newest prospect in the marriage mart. The Earl of Haywood was known to be lacking in funds, but for the wealthier females in the hunt for a husband, that didn’t matter. Not when the newcomer was as diabolically handsome as Jonah was.
Celie ached with a pain she knew would never go away. The thought of him paying court to any one of them was agonizing.
She tried to avoid watching him, but she couldn’t. A crowd of men who probably wanted to hear firsthand accounts of the war monopolized his attention.
She was sure reliving what he’d gone through was undoubtedly the last topic he wanted to discuss. She wanted to interrupt their conversation and draw him away. She wanted to have him to herself instead of sharing him with everyone else.
Celie gave herself a mental shake and called herself several unflattering names. He hadn’t given her a second glance when he and Hadleigh had been best friends. What made her think he’d want to make her acquaintance now? Especially when her brother was his most hated enemy? Unless, of course, he intended to pursue her for her dowry.
Perhaps, for him, she’d overlook her vow not to consider any man who’d offered for her because of the dowry that would go with her.
Celie cursed her pride. She’d rather spend her life a spinster than know her money and her brother’s lofty title had purchased the ring on her finger—even the Earl of Haywood’s ring.
She pulled her gaze away from where he stood. The crowd had grown larger. “I’m terribly warm,” she said to no one in particular, yet Amanda heard her and followed her toward the open doors that led out onto the terrace.
She couldn’t bear to watch every female in the room make spectacles of themselves as they fawned over the earl.
She couldn’t watch him pull one female after another into his arms and twirl them around the dance floor.
She couldn’t stand the hurt when he graced another female with the heart-stopping smile she’d dreamed would someday be meant for her.
She couldn’t stand the pain of knowing she’d fallen in love with someone who wouldn’t love her in return.
Chapter 2
Celie walked to the far side of the terrace and placed both palms atop the cool cement balustrade. This was the third time she’d escaped the ballroom so she wouldn’t have to watch every eligible female under the age of sixty make a fool of herself to gain the Earl of Haywood’s attention. She stared out into the flower garden as if she were interested in the prize roses Lady Plimpton was so fond of growing.
Actually, Celie wasn’t interested in anything right now except going home. All she wanted was to be someplace quiet where she could close her eyes and ease the ache that pounded in her head. Except she knew closing her eyes wouldn’t erase the images that were indelibly ingrained in her memory—the Earl of Haywood dancing a waltz with Darceline Covingdale, the Earl of Haywood talking with the three Rummery sisters while each one flirted more brazenly than the other, the Earl of Haywood gracing Penelope Witherspoon with a smile more brilliant than sunlight, the Earl of Haywood…
Celie doubled her gloved hand and slammed her fist down against the unyielding cement railing.
It hurt more than she’d anticipated it would. But she didn’t care. It felt better than anything else she could have done except issuing a string of words she wasn’t supposed to know.
“I hope I don’t know the intended target of that angry gesture.”
“Oh!” Celie squeaked as she spun around to see who had caught her exhibiting such an unladylike display.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she stared in awed wonder at the man who’d consumed her thoughts the entire evening.
His voice was deeper than she remembered it being, low and rich and enticingly smooth. His face as he came near her was even more ruggedly handsome than it had been when she’d looked at him across the ballroom. And the smile on his face, when directed at her, tugged at a spot deep inside her that sent hundreds of butterflies soaring in fight.
“I’m sorry,” he said, taking another step toward her, then another. “I startled you.”
“No…uh…I…uh…I was…”
Celie couldn’t find her tongue. Actually, she couldn’t find any of the social graces that had been ingrained in her since birth. She’d suddenly turned into a blabbering idiot.
The Earl of Haywood took several steps closer, then stopped. He kept himself a comfortable distance from her.
“I’m not sure what is proper here,” he said, placing the glass he’d brought with him onto the fat railing so both his hands were free. “Ordinarily, I’d beg an introduction from a mutual acquaintance to give you the opportunity to refuse acknowledging me.”
“Except we are already well acquainted with each other and have been for years. At least you were acquainted with my brother.”
His brows lifted. “But that was in the past,” he corrected.
“Yes, but it wasn’t a part of my past.”
Even though there wasn’t enough moonlight to see the expression in his eyes, Celie thought there was a hint of humor on his face.
“No, it wasn’t. But it’s a well-known fact that your brother no longer considers me a close friend.”
Celie wanted to laugh. “That’s probably the understatement of the year.”
“Then perhaps I need to ask if you share his opinion.”
“If I do?”
“Then I will excuse myself and leave you alone to enjoy this beautiful evening.”
She wished the deep timbre of his voice wouldn’t stir a myriad of emotions that settled heavily in the pit of her stomach. She wished she wouldn’t find herself mesmerized by the broad expanse of his shoulders. But most of all, she wished she hadn’t repeatedly dreamed of being alone with him without a prettier female competing for the handsome Lord Haywood’s attention.
Being here with him was almost a dream come true.
“Evenings like this are meant to be enjoyed by everyone. I’d be very selfish indeed if I tried to monopolize Lady Plimpton’s terrace,” she said. “I’d enjoy your company.”
&nbs
p; He smiled and leaned a hip against the balustrade.
He was taller than Hadleigh, but only by a little, and Celie imagined that if she stood next to him, the top of her head would come to just below his chin. Standing even this close made her feel small and delicate, something that was totally alien to her.
“I have to tell you how surprised I am to see you here, Lord Haywood.”
“From the looks of disbelief on the faces of Lady Plimpton’s guests, you weren’t the only one who couldn’t believe their eyes.”
“The night Melisande died changed futures for several people.”
“Then Lady Plimpton is to be commended, don’t you think? For daring to invite both of us to the same event?”
Celie turned her head and looked at him with an expression that said she thought Lady Plimpton’s ingenuity was more deeply rooted. “I’ve known Lady Plimpton for several years, and she’s never struck me as the sort of person who would take the initiative to invite two enemies to the same function simply to see what happened.”
A broad grin lifted the corners of Lord Haywood’s mouth, and the openness of his smile sent a warm rush to the pit of her stomach.
“Are you suggesting that someone may have encouraged the good lady to create an opportunity to bridge the gap that has separated your brother and me for the last three years?”
Celie considered what he suggested for a few minutes, then shook her head. “No, Lord Haywood. I doubt healing the hostility between you and my brother had anything to do with Lady Plimpton’s reason for inviting you. I think the reason is much more substantial.”
“Do you?” Haywood smiled, then lifted his glass to take a sip of his drink.
“Yes, and since you have just returned from the war, I think that something happened during the time you served that prompted her to take such a risk.”
Haywood’s arm halted in midair.
“Did you know Lady Plimpton’s nephew also returned from the war recently?” she asked. “Now that I think on it, I believe he arrived around the same time as you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He was injured quite severely. Lady Plimpton remarked that he survived only because of the heroic actions of his commanding officer.”
The Earl of Haywood took a swallow from the glass he’d brought with him. When he lowered his hand, he was at a perfect angle to look directly into her eyes.
“Do you know what I think?” she said more pointedly.
He didn’t speak but simply held her gaze.
“I think it’s possible that you and Lady Plimpton’s nephew served together. That you were, in fact, the commanding officer who saved Lady Plimpton’s nephew’s life.” She looked directly at him. “Would I be correct?”
When he didn’t answer, she continued. “I think Lady Plimpton issued you an invitation to repay you for saving her nephew.” Celie took a deep breath as the magnitude of his sacrifice hit her. He could have been killed attempting to save another human being. A fellow soldier was alive because of his bravery.
She swallowed hard. “Remind me to thank Lady Plimpton before I leave,” she said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded.
The Earl of Haywood rested his hip against the cement balustrade and steadied his gaze on her.
“What?” Celie asked when he continued to study her.
“When we were young, I often thought Hadleigh underestimated you. Now I’m convinced of it. You are far more intelligent than he ever gave you credit for being.”
“Does that frighten you?”
“Frighten?”
“Yes. I’ve been told my outspokenness frightens people.”
A smile brightened his face. “I think a better term might be intimidation. I think your understanding intimidates people.”
“Are you intimidated?”
“No.” He took another swallow from his glass. “Actually, I’m impressed.”
“Oh.”
When she didn’t say more, he tilted his head slightly and frowned. “You’re thinking again, but holding your tongue because you’re not sure if you should express your thoughts.”
Celie was startled by how adept he was at reading her. “Yes, I wanted to say how glad I was that Lady Plimpton risked inviting you. Even though it could have ended badly.”
“But didn’t.”
“No, thankfully, it didn’t.” Celie paused for a moment. “I don’t blame you for taking such a chance and coming tonight.”
“You don’t?”
“No. You are no longer a second son, but the Earl of Haywood. You need to take your rightful place in society. Lady Plimpton’s events are always well attended. Tonight will provide you the perfect opportunity.”
Haywood smiled and sat back against the balustrade. “So, if Lady Plimpton’s events are known to be so well attended, why do I have the feeling you wish you weren’t here?”
Celie tried to look surprised. “I don’t know what makes you think that.”
“I think that because I believe I saw you ask your brother more than once if he was ready to leave.”
Celie could hardly tell him the truth, but wasn’t comfortable telling a lie. “Would you believe me if I said I had a headache?”
“No. But I would believe you if you said you weren’t enjoying yourself. If the truth were known, I don’t believe you particularly enjoy attending the continuous round of parties and balls that everyone in society is supposed to crave.”
Celie let the soft sound of the orchestra wash over her as she looked out over Lady Plimpton’s garden. “It isn’t that I am not fond of society’s gatherings. There are times when I enjoy myself as much as anyone. There are times, however, when a quiet evening at home with a good book is more appealing. Or a night at the opera.”
“May I say, then, that I’m glad you felt obligated to come tonight. I enjoyed seeing you again after all these years.”
Celie smiled. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Yes. If I remember correctly, you were no more than eleven or twelve the last time you tried to tag along after your brother and me.”
“I was nearing my thirteenth birthday and an adult in my mind. I couldn’t understand why Hadleigh wasn’t as eager to have me join him as he was to have you and Melisande for companions.”
Haywood laughed a deep, sincere laugh. “No brother wants his sister to know everything he does.”
The smile on his face caused her heart to somersault several times.
“Besides,” he continued, “I’m sure Hadleigh was just protecting you from the trouble in which he and I always seemed to find ourselves.”
“You’re being kind, my lord. We both know that Hadleigh didn’t want me anywhere near because he considered me a child. If I remember correctly, both of you referred to me as a brat several times in my hearing.”
This made Haywood laugh even harder, and the effect of his laughter was a thousand times more powerful than his smile.
“Well, no one can call you a brat now,” he said, keeping the smile on his face. “Nor is it possible to consider you a child. Not when you’ve grown into such a charming woman.”
A shiver raced down Celie’s spine. He’d said she’d grown into a charming woman. Not a beautiful woman, which would have been an obvious lie and dropped her opinion of him by several notches. Not a lovely woman, which would have caused her to wonder what need he had to falsely fatter her.
But a charming woman, a description that had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with how she appeared to him.
“I have yet to extend my sympathies on the deaths of your father and your brother. I’m sure their deaths took you by surprise.”
“The news of their passing was not welcome, but it didn’t take me by surprise. Did it you?”
Celie couldn’t find an answer except…“No.”
Haywood locked his gaze with hers and smiled a sad smile. “I knew you would give me the truth. Thank you for that.
“The lives both Father a
nd Charles lived had bordered on the edge of disaster for several years. That they should both die so tragically came as a shock to no one.”
“I didn’t know your brother well. He and your father only visited Hadleigh Estate once or twice.” Celie turned to Jonah and studied his expression. “You don’t remind me at all of him.”
Haywood smiled. “Thank you a second time.”
“No, I meant—”
His raised hand stopped her from explaining that she’d meant in looks. Charles had been as fair as Lord Haywood was dark.
“I know what you meant, but I want you to know I’m not like Charles in actions, either.”
Celie let her shoulders drop. “I know you’re not, but I should have made myself clearer from the start. Hadleigh constantly tells me my mouth will get me into real trouble someday.”
“Do you believe it will?”
Celie shrugged. “Probably. But there’s no help for it. It’s in my makeup.”
Haywood laughed.
“What plans do you have now that you’ve made your return to society? Are you going to stay in London?”
“For a while, yes. I have some matters to take care of.”
“Yes,” Celie answered reluctantly. “I overheard some gentlemen remark that the first thing you need to do is begin your search for a bride.”
His eyebrows arched. “Did they?”
“Yes. You have responsibilities now, and properties. You will need an heir to secure them.”
Haywood gave a hearty laugh. “Let me first tell you that it’s not always wise to believe everything you hear.”
“Then you didn’t come tonight to begin your search for a bride?”
“I came tonight to take my place as the Earl of Haywood. If I happen to meet someone with whom I might wish to continue my acquaintance, then I will do so. But not because my goal is to leave Lady Plimpton’s ball having selected the woman I want as my wife.”
Celie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. After a second’s thought, she decided it was best if she didn’t put too much thought into it.
The Most to Lose Page 3