He…he missed her.
Ridiculous, really. They barely knew one another. And yet, after that evening sitting by the fire, he felt as though he knew her better than most. And when she looked at him—when her gaze met his so direct and unwavering—he got the feeling that she knew him better than anyone else in the world.
“But—”
“Everyone will be there,” he said. “You will be surrounded by friends, and I promise no one will force you to do anything you do not wish.”
She bit her lip. “Why…that is…why is it important to you that I be there?”
I don’t know. He leaned forward. “Haven’t you realized by now that I care about you?”
She blinked rapidly, her lips parting for air. His brain grew hazy with desire as he watched her brilliant eyes darken with emotion, her lips so inviting he bit back a groan.
“You…care?” she repeated. She sounded just as dazed as he felt.
He swallowed thickly. He’d said too much, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it back. There was something here between them, and he knew that she felt it too. Something that called to him and made him forget about his duty to his title, about the bride he was supposed to be on the hunt for, about the life he was meant to live.
None of that seemed to matter right here and now. Not when she was gazing up at him like this. “Do you trust me, Addie?”
Her gaze softened to something infinitely tender when he used her nickname. She licked her lips, and he tried not to stare. “I already told you that I do.”
She sounded just as awed by the fact as he felt.
“Then come to the ball,” he said. “Trust that I would not lead you astray.”
She hesitated only briefly before nodding. “All right.”
Triumph slashed through him, quick and ridiculous. He felt for all the world like he’d won a battle to the death. Her trust in him was humbling, and he found that he was more proud that he’d earned her trust than he was of anything else in his life.
“I will not let you down,” he said.
Her lips quirked up in a sad little smile. “You do not know what you promise.”
“Perhaps that’s because you will not tell me…” He trailed off, arching his brows in question. She gave a quick shake of her head.
No. Despite her trusting him to have her best interests at heart, she did not trust him enough to tell him her secrets.
But that would change. He swore to himself, that would change. “I cannot protect you if you do not tell me the truth.”
She bit her lip as she studied him. “I wish I could tell you everything. I truly do.” To his horror, tears brimmed her eyes, making them glimmer.
“Don’t cry, Addie. We will figure this out.”
“No,” she said with a sniff. “I will figure this out. I appreciate all you have done, but I no longer fit into your world. I have no business being at your home and certainly not attending a ball where everyone knows you are to find a wife.”
He gave a start at that. He supposed everyone did know it, but he’d never thought about the fact that Addie knew it.
He hated that she knew it. He felt an uncomfortable sensation—something like guilt—as he met her gaze. It was a struggle not to shift beneath her stare. For the life of him, he did not know whether he felt as though he were betraying his future wife by standing here so close to Addie, or whether he was betraying Addie by searching for his future wife.
Neither made any sense at all, and yet he could not deny that it was guilt he felt right now under her watchful stare.
She took a step back and then another. “I appreciate your help, Lord Tolston. But from here on out, I will decide what is best for me and for Reggie.”
She went to walk away, and he could not stop himself. He reached for her, snagging her around the waist and pulling her up against him. He caught sight of her eyes widening, but he was overcome with the need to show her how he felt, to see if she truly felt the same.
He kissed her.
Her lips were soft and warm beneath his, so perfect he thought he might lose all control. He held himself rigid, his grip on her loose enough that she could back away.
She didn’t.
They stood there frozen, his lips covering hers in a kiss that was light—almost chaste—as he waited for her to respond.
When she did, it was as though everything in her caved to temptation. One moment she was holding herself rigid, and the next she was sinking into him with a little moan, her arms twining around his neck as he crushed her to him.
He brushed his lips over hers as she sighed. He knew logically that she was no innocent—she’d had a child, after all. But nothing about her response felt studied or experienced as she opened to him.
He should stop this. He knew he should stop. But nothing in the world could have made him. Her lips were intoxicating, the feel of her in his arms like something out of a dream, and the taste of her was better than any nectar.
For one brilliant, heart-achingly perfect moment, Alec felt like he was exactly where he ought to be. He was where he belonged.
He was home.
A snore cut through the moment, and Addie flew out of his arms, backing away until she hit the door with her back, the sound of the housekeeper’s snores dwindling once more into background noise.
Breathing heavily, they stared at one another from across the room.
“That…that should not have happened,” she breathed.
No. It shouldn’t have. But he still hated her saying so. “My apologies, I—”
“No, do not apologize,” she said. Her voice was still breathless and flustered as she turned away from him. “I must go.”
“Addie, wait—”
His shout roused the housekeeper who sat up straight with a snort. “What is going on?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” he said, staring at the door where Addie fled. “There is nothing going on here.”
He was telling himself more than her, because it needed to be said. He had to get it through is head.
Nothing should have transpired between them and now…nothing ever would.
Chapter 7
As it turned out, Reggie fit into the School of Charm better than Addie did.
At least, that was how it felt some days when she was tired of keeping secrets. Today was one of those days.
Louisa was playing with Reggie on the floor of the dining room long after the other girls had departed. Louisa seemed to love little ones—particularly Reggie. He seemed to take to her brand of open, flirtatious charm just as much as a grown man. He was drooling over Louisa as she beamed at him, cooing her praise when he snatched up the ball she’d rolled his way.
Granted, he drooled quite a bit these days now that the last of his teeth were coming in. But even so, Addie wasn’t certain Reggie had ever looked at anyone but her with such adoration.
“I do believe you have an admirer, Louisa,” she said.
Louisa flashed her a smile over her shoulder. “If only all gentlemen were so easy to win over.”
Addie laughed, as she knew she was supposed to for no one could believe that the brilliantly beautiful Louisa had an issue winning over a gentleman. Addie had heard the tales about Louisa. The other girls at this school might not have welcomed her with open arms, but they were more than happy to inform her of the household gossip. And that gossip?
Well, it seemed to indicate that Louisa had no problem attracting the opposite sex.
But as Louisa had been nothing but kind to her since her arrival, and had avoided discussing Addie’s gossip—the least she could do was give her the same respect.
Louisa sat back on her heels as Addie took one last bite of her pastry with a sigh. She would miss the food when she left this place. She’d miss Louisa, too, and Miss Grayson with her calm air and her kind smiles.
She’d miss the dance instructor, whose lessons made her feel like she was a young debutante once more, and the hours of reading aloud in the eve
nings, which was so cozy and calming and…well, homey.
Even Reggie was welcomed to the evening affairs, and it was during those times most of all that she felt like she might actually have a home here. It wasn’t the same as her actual home, of course, but here she did not have the specter of Duncan hovering over her, or the bittersweet memories of her parents which made it impossible to forget her grief.
“Are you certain you do not wish to come with us this evening?” Louisa asked.
Addie came back to reality with a start. This evening—the evening she’d been trying not to think about for days. Just like she’d been trying not to think about tonight’s host or the way he’d kissed her…
Needless to say, she’d been failing hopelessly on all accounts.
“My blue gown would be stunning on you,” Louisa continued.
Addie smiled. “Thank you, but I do not belong there. I’d only stir up more gossip and—” She cut herself short. How to explain that while she’d likely not be recognized by the elite of London, particularly with a mask, there was the chance that Duncan or one of his friends who’d visited would be, and that was a chance she could not take. “It could be a problem.”
Louisa seemed to understand what she was not saying. “You might see people you know, you mean,” she said, cutting to the chase as she was wont to do.
No one would call Louisa Purchase subtle, that much was certain. But, she hadn’t a devious bone in her body, either, and so Addie merely sighed. “That is what I mean, yes.”
Louisa tilted her head to the side as Reggie clambered into her lap. “The mysterious Miss Adelaide,” she said in a soft sing-song voice. “It is no wonder Lord Tolston is so taken with you, now is it?”
She blinked rapidly. “What? He isn’t taken. Why would you say that?” Her voice rose as she spoke, and her cheeks turned hot under Louisa’s amused stare. Guilt and embarrassment had her biting her lip before she could babble any more as images of that kiss scorched her brain and made her heart race into action.
“Because I have eyes,” Louisa said matter-of-factly. “And ears.”
The heat in her cheeks grew so painful, Addie clapped her palms over her face to cool them. Had she heard them the other day?
Oh sweet mercy. Now all she could think about were his groans, her own whimpers—from there it was a slippery slope. She was bombarded by the memory of his touch, his scent, the warmth of his arms around her, and the solidness of his body against hers.
“My, my,” Louisa murmured. “I merely meant that he seems to fuss over you when he comes to visit.” She tilted her head to the side. “Is there something more that I’m missing?”
“N-no, no. Of course not.”
Louisa’s smirk was filled with disbelief, but she did not argue the point. Wrapping her arms around Reggie as though it were second nature to cuddle a small child, she rested her head against the top of his head. “I suppose it’s only natural that he take an interest in you since you are his ward.”
“I am not his ward.” She stiffened in discomfort at the mere thought.
“What would you call him then?” Louisa asked mildly.
Addie opened her mouth and then clamped it shut again. It hardly mattered what she thought of him or how she would classify their rather bizarre relationship. And yet, Louisa was waiting, and his words came back to her, making her warm all the way through. “Friends,” she said quietly. “We are merely friends.”
“Mmhmm.” Louisa sniffed. “Well, I wish I had more friends like the Earl of Tolston, I will say that much.”
Addie let out a little huff of laughter at Louisa’s teasing.
“But if he is such a dear friend,” Louisa said. “Then why will you not join us this evening? It really ought to be the most entertaining event.” Her eyes grew wide with excitement and her voice breathless with eagerness.
Addie knew that Louisa was rarely allowed to attend society events. She couldn’t blame her for being excited—were she in any other circumstances, she’d be eagerly preparing right this minute. But then again, under any other circumstances…she would never have been invited.
Addie studied her friend. “Does your family know you’ll be in attendance?”
Louisa shifted, her gaze sliding away guiltily. “Of course.”
“Louisa,” she said slowly.
Louisa huffed. “It is a masquerade. Who will even notice?”
Addie bit her lip, her allegiance torn between her new friend and the lady who’d been so kind to her. “Does Miss Grayson know?”
Louisa rolled her eyes. “She said that as Lord Tolston invited all of us, I was technically included in the invite. She left the decision up to me.”
Addie nodded. “And you don’t believe it will cause trouble for her or this school if you should attend?”
Louisa frowned. “Of course not! Addie, I know what you must have heard, but I promise you I do not mean to cause trouble—”
“Of course not, dear.” Addie patted her arm soothingly.
Louisa sank back in her seat, slightly mollified. “Trouble just seems to find me, that is all.”
“Of course,” Addie repeated, this time with a stifled smile.
“But it would help if you were there, too,” Louisa said.
“So I can cause trouble?” she teased.
Louisa laughed. “No, silly, so you can make sure I stay away from temptation.”
“And what about this evening will tempt you?”
Louisa sighed, but this one was a happy sigh. “Flirting and laughing and dancing…” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “Just think of all the fun to be had.”
Addie smiled, and for a second she allowed herself to imagine what life would have been like if everything had been different. If she hadn’t gone into mourning before she could have her debut. If her parents were still here to guide her way into society. If Duncan hadn’t been named their guardian. If she hadn’t felt compelled to flee…
She let out a loud exhale. “I’m certain it will be most entertaining.”
“Then come.” Louisa leaned forward and squeezed her arm. “Please. For me.”
She was about to say no again, but they were interrupted by the butler who carried a message on a tray. “For you, miss,” he said, handing it to Addie.
She opened it eagerly. It would be from Emmaline. They’d been exchanging notes for days as Addie tried to come up with a plan for where she would go from here. She’d be the first to admit…she didn’t wish to run. Not again. She’d found a place for herself here, and even Reggie seemed to be content.
But for how long?
She knew Tolston hadn’t been trying to hurt her the other day. He’d likely been trying to help. And Miss Grayson, too. But their nudging to have her meet with the Lady Rothby was just another reminder that this situation was not permanent. It might feel like her home now, but it was only temporary.
Emmaline was trying to convince her to talk to her parents, but Addie wasn’t sure she could take that chance. She’d never known the Havershams all that well, and had only been friends with Emmaline because of their closeness in age the one time the Havershams had visited their home. All she knew for certain about Emmaline’s parents was that they were friendly with Duncan, that much she knew, and it was her word versus his.
Addie read the missive quickly and then read it again in disbelief. Go to the Tolston ball, it read. I have what you need and D. will not be there. He’s in town but has other plans. His wards are still at home.
Addie blinked down at the note. They’d taken to writing vaguely, in case anyone intercepted their letters, but there was still no mistaking her meaning. Duncan was in London, and he’d told the Havershams that she and Reggie were still at their country home.
If she’d had any doubt, it was gone. Duncan had not told a soul they’d gone.
It was not difficult to guess why. Duncan would wait until he believed them to be gone for good and then declare her brother dead. Her too, no doubt.
> She supposed she should be glad. Being declared dead was a far sight better than being dead, after all.
And yet, her mouth tasted like grit and dust as she tried to swallow this news.
He would win.
Duncan would get her family home, the money that rightfully belonged to her and Reggie, and they would lose their family and connections to boot.
It wasn’t fair. Not even remotely.
The injustice of it made her shake.
But what was she to do?
She studied the note again and again as Louisa entertained Reggie, seeming to understand that she needed silence to think.
Emmaline had the money she needed to run away again and start anew, and the ball tonight was the perfect meeting location. Emmaline would not be questioned about why she was visiting a finishing school on the other end of town, and Addie would not have to risk being seen in the Haversham home.
She wouldn’t need to be seen at all at the masquerade—that was the point of these things, was it not?
With shaky hands she set down the note, indecision replaced with resignation. There was no question now about what she ought to do. The answer was right there in front of her in black ink.
Go to the Tolston ball.
That was precisely what she would do.
Once she told Louisa of her decision, Addie’s world burst into a flurry of activity. Louisa was in action before she’d finished speaking, with Reggie in tow and three other young ladies clamoring into Louisa’s private quarters once they heard the news.
Not all of them were there to cheer her on. She heard one particularly unpleasant girl—a Miss Delilah Olson complaining to anyone who would listen about how unseemly it was for a fallen woman to attend a ball alongside such fine young ladies. Delilah had similar opinions about Addie’s attendance at the School of Charm. She made those opinions clear as well, but her friend—the kinder but far more condescending Miss Prudence was quick to point out that Addie was an act of charity. Oh, how Prudence seemed to love that miserable word.
She was also certain to loudly laud Miss Grayson’s kind and charitable heart in taking in such a desperate case as Addie. Prudence said this well within Miss Grayson’s hearing, of course, and Addie had once caught Miss Grayson rolling her eyes as she turned away.
The Misadventures of Miss Adelaide Page 8