The Misadventures of Miss Adelaide
Page 9
Truth be told, that little roll of her eyes had endeared Miss Grayson to Addie more than any kind smile or act of charity could ever have done.
Now, it seemed that despite their disapproval, neither Delilah nor Prudence wanted to be left out of this monumental moment when the notorious fallen lady was to be dressed up for a ball where she hoped not to be seen.
“Why go at all if not to be seen?” Delilah asked. Her long dark hair shone like a mirror, but she continued with her long strokes as a maid bustled about, preparing her gown and hair pins.
They had hours yet until they would leave, but preparations for a ball like this were all-consuming. Most of these young ladies lived for moments like this. If things were different…
Her traitorous mind called up an image of Tolston. Now that she knew how it felt to be in his arms, to be held there like she belonged, like she’d come home—it was all too easy to imagine dancing in his arms. Her entire body felt like it had been swept away by a current of emotion as she braced herself against the delicious thought.
She’d left that life and those dreams when she’d left home.
As if to prove the point, Reggie tugged at the hem of her simple gown, and she leaned down to scoop him up into her arms. She pressed her nose into his white blond hair and held him close until his warmth eased the ache inside her. That hole in her chest that reeked of loneliness and despair. She let his soft comfort and his adorable voice ease the fear that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her limbs and her heart.
It weighed on her. But no more. If Emmaline could get the funds she’d tried to obtain, then there was a chance that she and Reggie could get away—for good this time. They’d have enough money for a fresh start, one with new names and new friends and—
“Try this one first.” Louisa thrust a brilliant green gown in her direction. “This ought to fit perfectly.”
Addie took it from her, but she eyed it warily. “Do you have anything a little less…noticeable?”
Louisa tossed her head back with a laugh. “Me? I doubt it. But come along, let us have a look, shall we?”
Addie forced a smile and headed over to the selection of gowns Louisa’s maid had laid out on the bed. “Are you certain you do not mind?”
Louisa made a scoffing noise before she was finished speaking. “You, my darling little secret, are the most fun I’ve had in ages.”
Addie shared a grin with the other girls, who seemed to have forgotten what a stain Addie was on their reputations as they gave in to the whirlwind, innocent fun of preparing for a masquerade.
They finally settled on a silver gown for Addie, which was the most subtle shade they could find amongst Louisa’s wardrobe. With a gray and white mask covering most of her face, and her hair done in an elaborate style she’d never worn before, she barely recognized herself when she stole a glance in the mirror. “What do you think?” she asked the others.
Louisa clapped her hands in delight with her own work, and Reggie giggled as he aped her gesture. “It’s perfect. No one will ever recognize you.”
“It is too bad you let yourself be ruined,” Prudence said with a sad sigh. “You would have made a beautiful debutante.”
Some of Addie’s happiness faded as the other girls fell into an awkward silence that seemed to swell with pity as they regarded the strange girl with loose morals whose entire life had been ruined by an anonymous man.
They weren’t too far off, Addie supposed. A man had ruined her future, just not in the way they imagined.
But—she steeled herself, straightening her shoulders as she met her gaze in the mirror. She ought to be grateful for where she’d landed. It was not every school for young ladies that would even allow a woman such as her through the door, let alone give her every comfort. She was lucky indeed to have found Miss Grayson, and the elusive Lady Charmian of whom she’d heard so many wonderful things. She was grateful for their acceptance of Reggie, just as she was grateful for Tolston.
She firmly shut down any more fantasies about the dashing Earl. She could be grateful to the man for his kindness without turning it into something more. Her life did not include him, and his most certainly did not include her. Or Reggie.
For a moment a whole new temptation called to her. What if she told Tolston everything? What then?
She closed her eyes again and that very possibility swept through her mind, from the best scenario—he believed her and kept her and Reggie safe—to the worst. He did not believe her and sent her back.
She had a feeling the truth would be somewhere in between.
Perhaps he would believe her, but if she came forward as Miss Adelaide Hopewell, daughter of the Baron of Wrencliff, then Reggie, too, would be once more in Duncan’s sights. And so long as Reggie stood between Duncan and the inheritance, he would be in danger.
She couldn’t ask Tolston to take on that burden, and she could not trust anyone to care for Reggie as much as she did.
She opened her eyes again, once more ready to face the world. She eyed her reflection warily. Now she knew what she must do. She had to avoid Tolston at all costs. If she were to run away again and give Reggie a life of safety, if not comfort, then she had to steer clear of her biggest weakness, her most devastating temptation.
Tolston.
For while he might have been her strongest ally, he was also the chink in her armor, her Achilles heel. He was the living embodiment of all she was giving up by running away.
He was the future she’d always dreamt about and hadn’t even known was real.
He was the future she could never have.
Louisa’s arm around her shoulders made Addie sigh with resignation. “You are certain I won’t be recognized?” Addie asked again, but this time she wasn’t thinking about Duncan’s friend or even the Havershams.
She needed to avoid Tolston, at all costs.
“I promise,” Louisa said quietly, her voice close to her ear. “He will never recognize you.”
Chapter 8
Alec recognized her instantly.
He stilled on the second-floor landing that overlooked the main entry, not far from the place where he’d first seen Addie, sprawled out unconscious on his floor. He was mid-conversation with a young lord now as she walked in, flanked on all sides by young ladies who dazzled and stunned with their brilliant gowns and glittering jewels.
Even surrounded by a flock of peacocks, Addie stood out in the crowd.
To him, at least.
It wasn’t the gown, or the unique color of her hair. In fact, he would have been hard-pressed to say what it was about her that seemed to call out to him like a beacon amidst all the others.
She might as well have been the only lady in attendance. The others all melted away, paling in comparison next to the light she seemed to emit just by being.
No one emits a light, you fool. He knew it was hogwash, but that did not make him feel any different. Clearly he’d been enchanted by the girl, because she was making his thoughts turn sappy and poetic, and he couldn’t focus on anything or anyone for long before she drifted into his thoughts.
He was so far gone that he did not hear his current companion walk away. It wasn’t until a female voice wished him good evening that he tore his gaze away from the vision in silver who was still making her way through the crush below.
“I see you’ve noticed who decided to join us this evening.” Miss Grayson’s voice was cool and filled with amusement. Not that he could blame her. He would have been equally amused if she were the one standing around like a lovesick fool.
“I thought she was not going to attend,” he said, as if that could excuse his humiliating ogling.
Miss Grayson’s laughter mocked him, but it wasn’t unkind. “I never thought I would see the day.”
He tore his gaze away long enough to fix her with a scowl. “I do not know what you mean.”
“Do you not?” she teased. “After they way you teased your poor friend Royce for losing his senses so
completely—”
“Royce was a fool,” he said gruffly. True, Royce was also his best friend, but the two were not mutually exclusive.
“Agreed,” Miss Grayson said lightly. “Particularly in trying to keep up pretenses with a woman he so obviously adored.”
He shot her a warning look. “If you have a point, Miss Grayson, I suggest you get to it.”
She smiled, the effect still stunning despite the fact that a portion of her face was covered with a simple white mask. “Speak to her.”
He turned away. “It is not that simple.”
“Is it not?” she asked mildly.
“You do not know the situation,” he said.
She was silent for a moment. “No,” she finally said. “I most definitely do not know Addie’s situation.” She peeked over at him with a curious look. “And I suspect you do not either.”
He huffed in annoyance. She was right, and he hated it. He despised the fact that while Addie might trust him more than some, she did not trust him enough to share her burden and her secrets with him. It grated on him, pricking at his pride and tearing at his heart. “She will not open up to me,” he said, the words coming out on a growl of displeasure.
Miss Grayson made a noncommittal sound. “Perhaps that is because it goes both ways.”
“What does?”
“Trust,” she said. “Vulnerability. Sharing.”
He gave another growl of distaste at the string of words that rubbed against his masculine sensibilities. But, despite his discomfort—he suspected she was right.
That was the most discomfiting part of all.
“Have you told her how you feel?” she asked.
He snorted in disbelief. “Tell her,” he repeated. “Tell her what?” He didn’t even know how he felt, how was he supposed to tell her?
“I think you know,” she said, her tone aggravatingly smug.
He shifted away from her, not sure where he was heading. Though he suspected he’d be wandering the halls of his home until he found her. Addie. She was here, in his home, and there was no way he could stay away from her.
“Have you told her?” Miss Grayson persisted.
Now he knew why Lady Charmian had chosen her to run a school. Miss Grayson put every one of his tutors to shame with her persistence and her superior tone, as though she knew the answer as well as him.
And he did know.
Much as he might resist the idea, he knew what she wanted him to admit.
He cared about her. A lot. Too much. Perhaps even enough to call it…love.
He gripped the railing, leaning over slightly to try and catch one last glimpse of her before she disappeared into another room.
“Have you told her?” Miss Grayson’s tone grew sharper, more insistent.
“No,” he muttered.
But he’d shown her. That kiss came back to him like it always did these days—insistently and intensely. His body seemed to have a knowledge that his mind and his heart had not yet fully grasped. It was trying to give him a message he didn’t entirely wish to hear.
It had spoken to Addie more clearly than his brain and mouth had been able to. That kiss had said all that he could not say.
Miss Grayson shook her head beside him. “I never thought I would see the day,” she said again.
He shot her a glare for that all-knowing tone. It was driving him mad.
Even if he could put a name to this strange, new, overwhelming sensation of need and desire and belonging…it did nothing to help him. Even if his heart and body were of one mind, logic, reason, obligation, and duty…they would not be ignored.
Even now, standing here in this crowd of acquaintances and near strangers—this was his home. This was more than his home—it was his family legacy. His title and his land, it was not just his—it belonged to his ancestors and would one day belong to his heirs. There was something humbling about that. It was this knowledge that had kept him from becoming like Royce or any of his other friends, who threw tradition and duty to the wind for the sake of a divertissement and cheap pleasures.
It was that knowledge that made him feel shackled and miserable right now.
He gripped the banister and willed himself to be reasonable. He was a fortunate man in every aspect. The fact that he would be obligated to marry for the betterment of his title was hardly something to weep over. He was lucky. He was blessed.
He was…
He lost sight of her in the crowd.
He was filled with an aching loneliness that made no sense whatsoever. He’d never minded being alone before. Aside from that, he was currently surrounded by hundreds. A close friend even stood at his side.
So why then did he feel like his heart had gone missing the moment she’d left the room? At what point had Miss Addie Adelaide become a necessity in his life on par with food and water?
He wanted her. There was no use denying it any longer. What was more, he needed her. But she was everything he could not have in a wife.
Marrying her would mean scandal, it would mean notoriety and a loss of respect. He would be a laughingstock for being the cuckold who raised another man’s child and who married a ruined woman. Not to mention whatever dark family secrets she held that threatened to destroy the both of them if he tied himself to her, to his title…if he made her the mother of his heirs.
But even as he warned himself against it, he found his heart thudding painfully at the thought of her bearing his children, of her at his side, of every night ending in front of the fire—sharing intimacies and hearing her thoughts. Seeing those eyes first thing every morning and hearing her laughter each night before sleep.
As an earl, she was the worst possible choice for a wife.
But as a man?
She was the only choice.
He needed to find her, to speak to her, to make her see sense. Maybe if he could help her with her family problems, if he could save her from her past…maybe there was a chance that they could find a future together.
He turned to Miss Grayson who was watching him calmly, a hint of amusement in her blue eyes in a look he knew well. This was the same kind but cynical gaze he’d seen her turn on Amelia and Royce during the height of their whirlwind love affair.
It was bemusement, amusement, and just a hint of pity for the fool who had lost his mind to the illness called love.
“Has she told you anything?” he asked.
Miss Grayson shook her head. “The girl is tightlipped.” She shrugged. “Addie is lovely, sweet, kind, and helpful…but she certainly has her secrets.”
“She’s afraid of something,” he said.
“Yes, that’s what’s holding her back.” She turned to face him. “At this particular moment, however, I’m more curious as to your excuses for keeping her at arm’s length.”
He gaped at her. “Is it not obvious?”
She lifted one shoulder. “I never took you to be the kind of man who cared what others thought.”
He glared at her mischievous little smile. “And I never took you to be a romantic.”
She scoffed and they shared a small smile of understanding. This was one thing they’d always had in common.
“Not for myself, perhaps,” she said slowly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe it exists for others.” At his blank stare, she continued on with a defensive tone. “Tell me you weren’t just a little swayed watching Amelia and Royce fall head over heels for one another. They proved to me, at least, that love does exist…for some people.”
“Not me.” He said it more out of habit than anything else, but it was the truth, was it not? Addie had said it herself. Love was a luxury few could afford.
Was that what this was? A luxury? Were he to cave to his wants and desires for this wholly unsuitable woman would he be giving in to selfishness or doing right by himself and, more importantly, by her?
He could end her suffering easily. He might not know her secrets but with the power of his title and the fortune at his disposable,
surely her fears could be conquered. There was nothing he would not do to ensure her safety, and the safety of her child.
Was it selfish to want love in addition to everything he’d been given? Perhaps. Maybe it was too much to ask of fate that he have love as well as wealth and power and a good name.
Was that it, then? Was the price of his good fortune a life without true love?
He looked out over the sea of noisy people below. What a depressing thought. To go his whole life without genuine affection and a true connection…for what?
As an earl he had more money than he could count, more power than all but a handful, and more respect than any. No scandal would harm his banknotes, and no amount of notoriety would steal the power of his title.
It was his pride that would take a licking.
But what had all that pride gotten him?
Certainly not warmth or happiness…or love.
He drew in a deep breath and clenched his hands into tight fists. The need to see her right this instant, to tell her how much that kiss had meant to him—it made him want to crawl out of his skin. At the very least, he wanted to leap over this balcony to avoid the mass of people who were crowding the staircase and impeding his path.
These people—he watched them now with a new vision. One of a man in love, he supposed. They might judge her, but he knew her worth, even if he never knew her history. And if they judged him a cuckold?
Well, again…he knew better.
So what did he have to risk if he asked her to be his? Only his pride.
But if he didn’t pursue her—if he let her slip out of his life the same way she’d come in, he’d lose his heart. Of that he was certain.
“Pardon me, Miss Grayson, I need to attend to some business.”
“Give Miss Adelaide my best,” she called after him.
“Adelaide.” A male voice he did not recognize repeated the name as though it meant something. “Did you say Miss Adelaide?”