They sat in silence.
Celie waited as long as she could stand the uncomfortable quiet, then leaned forward and whispered, “I just told Lord Haywood that, when I was younger, I remember watching the two of you leave for the opera.”
Without indicating he’d heard her, Hadleigh answered, “How can you say that? You were just a child.”
She and Amanda simultaneously turned their heads to glare at him. “Your Grace,” she said, knowing the use of his ducal title would gain his attention, “I am only six years your junior. By the time you’d reached the advanced age of eighteen, I was a young lady of twelve. In case you doubt me, I can recall several other incidents that happened when I was that age. Some of which you might prefer I not mention in public.”
“Your sister’s always had an excellent memory, Your Grace.” The chiding tone of Amanda’s voice drew Hadleigh’s attention equally as sufficiently as Celie’s had. “I might suggest you dissuade her from recalling her childhood memories. Some of the incidents could well be embarrassing.”
The shocked look on the Duke of Hadleigh’s face was as entertaining as anything Celie could remember. She nearly burst out laughing.
Amanda had always enjoyed making remarks concerning Hadleigh, always commented in a teasing manner about his pompous air, his stiff demeanor, and his total lack of a sense of humor. But never had she been so forward as to challenge him to his face.
“Are you suggesting that there’s something in my past I wouldn’t want revealed, Lady Amanda?”
She lifted her eyebrows in a questioning gesture. “Are you suggesting that there’s nothing in your past you would rather not have remain there?”
Celie wanted to applaud Amanda’s bravery. She wanted to congratulate her on successfully engaging Hadleigh in a conversation that didn’t revolve around all the mundane topics of the decisions being made in the House. She wanted to give her friend a hug to thank her for putting a combative glimmer in Hadleigh’s eyes she hadn’t seen for three years.
She wanted to shout for joy.
Instead, she giggled silently and turned her head in the opposite direction so neither Hadleigh nor Amanda could see the laughter she couldn’t stop. What she saw when she looked away from them, though, was equally as mesmerizing as the couple to her left.
Lord Haywood wasn’t even trying to hide the amusement he found in the situation. He sat relaxed in his chair with a wide grin on his face.
When Celie turned, he met her gaze and broadened his smile.
Her heart did a rapid somersault and the blood flowing through her veins warmed to a soothing heat. He sat close enough so she could see several golden flecks in his ebony eyes, and a glimmer of something to which she couldn’t quite put a name stared back at her.
“I think your brother’s met his match,” he whispered, low enough that he couldn’t be overheard.
“The two of them have never been what you’d call compatible. Amanda thinks Hadleigh’s too full of himself. She enjoys nothing more than emphasizing his human failings, as well as what she considers his errors in political judgment.”
“And Hadleigh?”
“Oh, he’s convinced Lord and Lady Mattenden made a fatal error by not drowning their youngest daughter at birth.”
Jonah tipped his head back and laughed.
“Plus,” Celie added, “he’s convinced an even more serious error was made by allowing Amanda use of their library. She’s far too knowledgeable to fit into Hadleigh’s mold of the perfect society female, far too outspoken to conform to his expectations of demureness and refinement. He’s certain Lady Amanda will never make any man a suitable wife.”
“And what about you? I’m surprised he allows you to associate with Lady Amanda.”
“Oh, he’d forbid it if he thought I’d listen to him.”
“But you wouldn’t?”
“Of course not. I simply allow him to blame all my shortcomings on Amanda’s influence and continue our friendship.”
“And does Hadleigh consider you to be headstrong?”
“Of course. I’m not at all the soft-spoken, malleable female he thinks I should be.”
His smile broadened. “Good.”
Celie felt her cheeks warm and looked away from him before he noticed her embarrassment.
The room was full now, every chair occupied. Thankfully, the noise level was high enough that their voices could not carry. The bustle of excitement from the guests anticipating the performance did nothing, however, to ease the tension building inside her.
The emotions roiling inside her from sitting near Haywood were more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced before. The heat that wrapped around her when he looked at her unsettled her nerves. The emotional pull she experienced was so alien she almost couldn’t fight it.
She almost cried out in relief when Lady Cushing called for quiet and began her introduction. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could sit this close to Haywood before her nerves stretched to the snapping point. Every inch of her body tingled in alertness. Then Elthea Zunderman stepped to the front of the room and began her first selection.
Celie came alive the moment the mezzo-soprano sang the first note. It seemed impossible for such a petite woman to put out such a huge, rich sound, but she did. Celie was mesmerized, as was every other person in the room.
The gathering sat enthralled, hanging on to every lilting sound, anticipating every note, immersed in the experience of knowing they were listening to one of the greatest vocalists of the age.
Miss Zunderman finished her first selection, and for several long moments, no one moved. No one dared even breathe. Every guest in attendance sat spellbound. Her finishing note reverberated in the room, leaving an echo of perfection.
In unison, the audience released a sigh, then broke out in resounding applause.
The experience was spiritual, affecting one’s soul as effectively as it affected one’s emotions. Celie took a gasping breath, then wiped her gloved fingers over her damp cheeks. She hoped Lord Haywood hadn’t noticed how she’d been moved to tears, but the clean white handkerchief he held out to her said he had.
Thankfully, Miss Zunderman began her next selection before Celie was required to speak. She doubted she could have found words to express her feelings, doubted she could have found her voice to express her thoughts.
She risked a sideward glance to the man sitting next to her, then sat back against her chair and prepared to let the gifted angel transport her to the stars.
Life had suddenly turned perfect.
Celie remained in her chair when the performance was over. The front of the room was too congested to get anywhere near the talented Miss Zunderman.
“Would you care to take a stroll through Lady Cushing’s garden?” Lord Haywood asked when the crowd closed in on them. “Or should we make our way forward to offer our congratulations to Miss Zunderman?”
Celie looked to where Amanda and her brother stood talking to some acquaintances. They were engulfed by a sea of people and weren’t able to move in any direction. The crowd surrounding the vocalist grew deeper by the second. Celie shook her head. “I intend to offer my congratulations, but not now. I’ll speak with her after she’s had a moment to catch her breath.”
Haywood offered her his arm, then ushered her through the crowd to the open French doors that led onto the terrace. The moment they reached the silence outside, she realized how loud and uncomfortable it had been inside.
“Oh, this is wonderful,” she said, taking in a deep breath.
“You enjoyed the performance,” he said as they walked across the veranda and down the three steps that led into Lady Cushing’s garden.
“It was remarkable. I don’t remember the last time I heard such talent. I enjoyed every moment.”
“And I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed watching anyone as much as I enjoyed watching you.”
Celie stopped, then turned to look into his face.
The moon was
full and bright, providing more than enough light to see his expression clearly. She could see the smile on his face and the look in his eyes, although she wasn’t sure she was reading his look correctly.
She couldn’t be, she told herself, for there was a hint of something she could easily mistake for interest. Or perhaps admiration.
“May I ask you a personal question?” she said, knowing this probably wasn’t the time or the place for such an inquiry, but needing to stop her imagination from dreaming of more than might ever be.
“Why do I have a feeling I need to be sitting for this question?”
She smiled at him in an effort to hide her nervousness. “Because you probably do.”
“Very well.” He scanned the area. When he located a wrought iron bench placed on a cement pad beneath a huge shade tree, he led her to it.
Celie sat down and he sat beside her.
“Very well, Lady Cecelia. I’m ready for this serious question that you’ve wanted to ask since I asked you to ride with me through Hyde Park.”
Celie couldn’t hide her surprise. “What makes you think I’ve wanted to ask you a question since then?”
“Do you deny it?”
She hesitated, then answered, “No.”
“I thought not.” He smiled.
For the first time in her life, she had a feeling she’d met someone who could see through her—perhaps too well.
“You’re thinking too hard. Relax and ask your question.”
Celie stared at her hands clutched in her lap while she thought how to phrase her question. She suddenly realized how important his answer was and how afraid she was that it wouldn’t be the answer she wanted to hear. But she had no choice. Nor could she afford to allow matters to go further if…
Well, she couldn’t.
She gathered her courage and let the words rush from her mouth. “Why have you concentrated so much energy on spending time with me?”
“Have you found my attention distasteful?”
Celie swallowed hard. “Please, don’t answer my question with a question.”
For the span of two of the longest seconds Celie had ever endured in her life, he said nothing. When he spoke, his voice was void of its former humor and sounded as serious as she’d ever heard him.
“Very well, I will answer your question, but you may not hear everything you want. First, though, I would like you to answer a question of my own. Do you find my attentions distasteful?”
“You know I don’t. I enjoy your company…very much.”
“I’m glad.”
He paused, and Celie imagined she heard him release a breath he must have been holding. Before he spoke, he pushed himself to his feet and took a step away from her.
“It wasn’t by accident that I sought you out that first night. It was intentional.”
He stopped, but Celie couldn’t let it rest there. She finished his sentence for him. “You sought me out because of my brother, didn’t you?”
He locked his hands behind his back and looked at her. “Yes, because of your brother.”
She wasn’t sure how his admission should make her feel. She thought perhaps angry, but that wasn’t the emotion that settled over her. She remained silent and waited.
“I want you to know that meeting you was a surprise. I expected to like you.” He smiled. “I had from when you were a young girl tagging after Hadleigh and Melisande and me. You were so determined to be a part of our threesome. Even though Hadleigh and Melisande were determined to keep you at arm’s length.”
His smile broadened, and Celie couldn’t help but answer it with a smile of her own.
“But I never anticipated feeling as I did when we met,” he added.
“How was that?”
“As if I’d known you forever.”
Celie’s cheeks warmed, but she refused to lose herself in his flattery. She lowered her gaze and asked the question she dreaded hearing the answer to the most. “What purpose did you have in wanting to meet me? Was it because you expected Hadleigh to become furious and you wanted to repay him for some of the anger and frustration you’d endured because of him?”
“What makes you think I’ve been angry?”
“How could you not be? Hadleigh was the reason you were ostracized by society. He was the reason you went to war and came home injured. He was the reason you weren’t here when your father and brother died.”
He took a step toward her and sat. He turned to face her and placed his hand over hers. “I didn’t speak to you that first night because of any hidden agenda to take revenge on your brother, nor to get even with him for anything that happened. He didn’t force me to enter the war. I chose to go. I needed to separate myself from what had happened that night with Melisande as much as Hadleigh needed me to be gone so he could heal.”
“And the fact that you weren’t here when your father and brother died?”
He shook his head. “My father and brother had been traveling down a path toward destruction for years. Each made one fatal decision after another. Each failed to live productive lives years before their physical deaths.”
“Then why?”
He released her hands and leaned back against the bench. “I warned you that you would not like everything I had to say, and this will be something you’ll like the least. I sought you out that night because when I came back to London after the war, I came back as the Earl of Haywood.” He took a breath. “My intent was to take my rightful place in society, and I could hardly do that if your brother was still intent on forcing everyone to choose between the two of us.”
He rose to his feet and clutched his left hand to his side. Celie could see his side still pained him, no doubt because he’d been on his feet for so long.
“When your brother did not turn away from me, I decided I would carry my plan one step further.”
“You wanted to see what he would do if you introduced yourself to me?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think to do if he objected?”
“I told myself I would handle that problem if and when it arose.”
Celie breathed a sigh. The Earl of Haywood had accomplished his goal. He’d been accepted back into society and had spent an adequate amount of time with her to convince everyone that any rift between the Duke of Hadleigh and the Earl of Haywood had been bridged. Though she’d dreamed that there might have been a more personal reason he’d singled her out, she’d been nothing more than the vehicle he’d used to take his rightful and necessary place.
That knowledge shouldn’t pain her, but it did. She’d watched the bitterness her brother harbored toward his longtime friend eat away at him for the last three years, until she feared for his health and mental well-being. She should be glad that Hadleigh’s healing process had begun and that she’d played a part in it. But it hurt to know that the man she’d secretly loved all these years felt nothing for her. That he’d only used her to gauge Hadleigh’s feelings.
So this was how it would end.
Her instinct told her that the role she’d played in Haywood’s attempt to regain his rightful place was finished. She closed her eyes and prayed he wouldn’t ask that she still remain his friend. She didn’t think she could survive that.
She cloaked her heart with the impenetrable armor she was so adept at putting in place, the same shield she erected each time a suitor attempted to court her, knowing it was her dowry they wanted instead of her; as she watched one childhood friend after another meet the man of her dreams, then marry, knowing the man of her dreams didn’t even know she existed; as she attended wedding after wedding and smiled at the happy bride and groom as if their happiness didn’t cause an empty ache that never went away.
She refused to let Lord Haywood think she’d been foolish enough to expect—no, dream of—more than friendship, dreamed that, one day, he would ask her to be his bride. She possessed too much pride to let him think she thought it possible for a man to want her enough that he’d overlook
the ill feelings between himself and his wife’s family.
No, she would handle this with the same indifference that she handled every disappointment.
“So now you can continue with your agenda.” She lifted her gaze and gave him a bright smile. “You can begin your search for a wife. Or have you already?”
He looked her in the eyes. “Yes, I’ve already begun.”
“I see,” she answered.
A part of her died a little, but she would not allow him to see it. She took a fortifying breath. She refused to have him feel sorry for her, refused to let him pity her. Refused to let him realize how much she hurt.
“Aren’t you going to ask if anyone has attracted my attention?”
Celie kept the smile on her face even though it hurt to keep it there. “No, Lord Haywood. I think I prefer to watch your story unfold.”
“But I value your opinion, Lady Cecelia. I’d like to discuss my choice with you and gain your opinion.”
“I’d prefer not, Lord Haywood. Perhaps when you have narrowed your choices, I’ll offer an opinion, but not yet.”
Their gazes locked for what seemed an eternity. When it hurt too much to look at him, she broke the contact and moved to rise. “If you’re ready, I think we’d better go back.”
She needed to escape, needed to make her way someplace where it would be quiet and she could be undisturbed for a while.
She took his outstretched hand, grateful that he realized they’d spent enough time alone and needed to return before they were missed.
She rose to her feet and made a move to step away from him, but he held her fast.
“Perhaps I would do better to show you my intent,” he said when she stood next to him. “As I said, it’s important that you are aware of my intentions.”
She started to object, but before she could separate herself from him, he stepped closer and cupped his palm to her cheek.
He smiled, then lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
Their kiss was short, tender, and without a doubt, the most emotional experience of her life.
“I surprised you,” he whispered, pulling back slightly. “I’m sorry. I should have asked your permission first.”
The Most to Lose Page 7