"Oh, you met Mr. and Mrs. Frogget before," she said. "I was just saying what a marvelous evening it is."
It felt so familiar, her introducing him to people. It felt a little as though they were a team. Was this what it felt like to have a wife? He had never really thought about it before, what it would feel like.
"Enchanted," Felix said, greeting the lady and then the gentleman.
"They have just come back from the continent. To this weather, could you believe."
"The gardens are available for anyone who wishes to use them, but I doubt anyone will tonight."
"I have never seen your garden, but I assume they are similarly grand as the house," Miss Bellworth said.
"They have unfortunately been neglected for a while. They have seen better care, I must confess."
"Bachelors are not usually the best at managing gardens, are they?" the woman said. "My brother let my mother's garden go to rack and ruin."
They chatted for a while.
"There is quite a bit of the house that I haven't shown you yet," Felix said when it was just him and her. "There is an extensive library."
"And the conservatory you spoke of."
"I am happy to show it to you."
She bit her lip as if indecisive. "I should introduce you to Araminth."
"I have no interest in Araminth," he confessed.
"Right, of course," she mumbled.
"And although very kind, I don't need your services as a matchmaker. I am capable of spotting women I appreciate."
"Brave ones."
"Exactly. Come, I will show you the conservatory. From the outside if nothing more."
She took a tentative step and he walked to the salon where people were lingering and conversing. It led to the open door onto the back patio, which let in fresh, cool air to combat the heat of three hundred guests. How many had come in the end, he hadn't known.
There were a few outside, smoking and chatting. The cool was refreshing as Felix stepped outside. And for the first time that evening, he felt as if everything he did wasn't observed, judged and commented on.
The conservatory was at the left side of the patio.
"It is beautiful," she said, looking up at the glass and iron structure. "It must catch the morning sun."
"It is pleasant in there most sunny days."
Their breath condensed.
"Unfortunately you can't see much of the garden at this time."
"It looks substantial," she said.
"I suppose."
The gentlemen out on the patio finished their conversation and took themselves inside. Technically they were within view of the salon, so it wasn't scandalous that they be out there.
"Are you not afraid to be caught with me alone? Did you not say unmarried women were trying distressing tactics to try to influence you?"
"We are within sight of the salon and the door is open," he said.
"So you are safe, then," she said.
"I trust you not to act disgracefully, Miss Bellworth."
"Well, thank you. That is quite some endorsement."
Another couple walked out on the patio.
"I think everyone is enjoying the evening," she said.
He would say he was pleased, but he didn't truly care. "Are you?"
"Yes, of course."
"Have you danced?" he asked.
"I did quickly, but I am not the keenest dancer, I must confess. It all seems rather pointless."
"You mean the slight touches and the displaying of assets?" he said.
"Well, the conversation is rather poor. And frankly, I find it boring. Ester loves it. In fact, she is probably dancing right now."
"With your brother."
"It appears so."
"She believes herself in love with your brother. Does he feel the same way?"
"Naturally, he doesn't discuss his innermost feelings with me, but I have warned him to tread carefully. If he listens, I have no idea."
"Young men can be careless."
Chapter 27
"Perhaps some other time, I can show you the gardens," Lord Britheney said.
Something in her really liked that he wanted to show her his home. It felt very nice that he had such an avid interest in her opinions. Not every man did, and it told her a great deal about a man the things he showed interest in, even if his interest was shallow in any particular topic.
The other couple on the patio left and they were alone again. It wasn't exactly risqué. They were in sight.
"Are you getting cold?" he asked.
"A little."
"Then perhaps we should return inside."
With a smile, she nodded. It had been nice away from the drone of the crowd. She liked spending time with him—sparring with him, which they tended to end up doing.
He led her back to the open door, but as he got closer, he veered to the side and he drew her with him by her hand toward the wall of the house just by the door. And before she knew what was happening, she was kissing him. Soft lips pressed to hers. The length of his body to hers. A sensation she could simply melt into if she allowed herself.
He was stealing a kiss and she should object, but she couldn't bring herself to, because she was discovering what she had never allowed herself to think about—what it felt like to kiss him.
His tongue teased along her lips, seeking entrance. She shouldn't be encouraging this, but curiosity overwhelmed her and she opened her mouth to him and the kiss deepened. Every part of her body reacted. Her breasts were pressed to his chest, molding to him. It felt both forbidden and incredibly exciting.
His tongue stroked hers and it was beyond forbidden. Utterly carnal. Decadent. His hand pressed her to him, revealing to her some idea of how much he wanted her. She hadn't known. He'd always behaved so perfectly, although at the flower shop, he'd given the suggestion there was desire for her within him. She had thought he had been jesting, but this kiss showed it to be very real and very firm.
For a moment, it was almost overwhelming, making her feel as if she was losing control and she grew scared. But not enough to pull away. There was something so compelling about this, about the taste of him, the scent in her nose and the feel of his soft lips pressing to hers. And the feel of his tongue reaching into her mouth, exploring and coaxing. In fact, she didn’t mind this at all. The kiss was unlike any she’d had and it grew sweeter the longer it went on.
And then his lips were gone, replace by cold air. For a moment, she didn’t know what had happened and she opened her eyes. Oh, it had finished. Sylvia blinked to regain her senses, because they had utterly fled. His forehead to hers, she felt his breath on her inflamed lips. No one had ever kissed her like that. For being a stolen kiss, it had been… consuming. It made her a little frightened, but still so very curious.
For a moment, she had forgotten where they were, and then it struck her. They were just out of sight, but if someone stepped through the door, they would be seen and there would be scandal.
He let her go as she drew away and she stared at him, trying to understand what had just happened, and why. "You stole a kiss," she said.
"I did."
Not just a kiss, a kiss so unlike any she had ever had. Something in her wanted to rush to him again, into another, but there was something very dangerous about those kisses, because for a moment, she had become one of those stupid girls who would risk everything for a moment of… sheer pleasure. That part she hadn't understood before, how utterly pleasurable a kiss could be. Dreamy, in fact.
Her breath was still ragged and her eyes searched his. What did this mean? What did this desire mean? It was desire, wasn't it? He wanted her as a woman.
With an unsure smile, she calmed her breath. "You are a dark horse, aren't you?"
"I apologize. I could not resist." But he didn't look all that sorry.
"I should get back." Cold wasn't close to being an issue, because she felt as if she stood in a fire, but she had been out of sight, if only for a moment, and bein
g out here was dangerous. Not only because they could have been seen, but also because he was capable of stealing kisses, but more importantly, she couldn't trust herself to resist them.
Her lips ached as she walked through the door into the warm salon. Could everyone see the guilt on her face? See that she had been thoroughly kissed and that she had been wanton enough to love every moment of it?
It felt as if she was floating on air, unable to completely compose her thoughts.
"My dear," she heard and someone took her hand. Turning, she saw Lady Thornton. "You cannot be silly and let yourself be caught alone with such a man."
Sylvia blinked, desperately trying to get her mind in order. "We just stepped outside. Completely in view." What had she seen? Had she seen the kiss? No, she couldn't have. There had been no way of seeing it unless she’d popped her head out the door.
"That is what they do," Lady Thornton said. "They lull you into believing you are safe with them, and then they pounce. That man is exactly like the cloth he is cut from."
Sylvia went to argue.
"They even convince you it was your idea," Lady Thornton said with a disgusted snort. "It is all a game to them and they care nothing about the consequences of their evil-doing. Snare poor unsuspecting girls like spiders, they do."
It was the statement of them making it seem like the woman's idea that burrowed into her mind, because he had done that, said several times that it was the women trying to catch him alone. Making it seem like he was a completely innocent party, but he hadn't acted innocently. He had stolen a kiss—and a ravishing kiss at that.
"I'm sure you are—" she started.
"Mark my words. That man shows an unnatural level of interest in you. I have been watching. He is drawing you into his snare, delivering little confidences, making you think he is a friend, when all he wants is to ruin you, for his own perverted pleasure. I have seen it before, believe me. He is exactly the same."
Unfortunately, she couldn't find anything to argue with, other than that it felt genuine. He felt like a genuine friend. She had become so comfortable in his presence—complacent. And then he had struck. He had pulled her away from safety and subjected her to considerable risk. There had been no assurance someone wouldn't simply have walked out on the patio at any moment. And he hadn't cared.
Sylvia felt ill. Her stomach was turning. Had she just let herself be taken in by a rogue? Yes, of course she had. He'd even been honest about it. How many times had he clearly stated he had no interest in marrying? Almost every time she'd seen him. Yet, she had let him get closer to her every single time too.
Lady Thornton was still talking, but Sylvia had stopped listening. She knew the gist of it.
"I was simply trying to be helpful," Sylvia stated.
"That kindness is being abused."
A renewed set of nausea rolled her stomach. This couldn't be true. But evidence pointed that way. He had played fast and loose with her reputation when it came down to it.
"I thank you for your words of warning, Lady Thornton," she finally said. "And I will absolutely heed them. I think I will go find my mother."
"I believe she is in the ballroom," the lady replied and almost shooed her away like a naughty schoolgirl. Maybe she was right in that Sylvia had acted recklessly.
Not only was she disappointed with herself, but in Lord Britheney too. The friendship that had developed between them was being used for something that was designed to hurt her. She had liked him. It wasn't as if she'd had hopes for it, for him, but she had really enjoyed the friendship. And all along, it had been a ploy.
Andrew was dancing with Ester when she walked into the ballroom and went to find her mother, who stood watching.
"How many times have they danced together now?" she asked.
"Three times."
That would be noted. That was clear public indication that he had some intentions. He'd better have some intentions. For a moment, she even doubted her brother, and that was an unforgivable harm that had been done to her, even if no one else ever saw it.
Anger seeped through her. This was unjust and unfair. And at no point had she been consulted in that kiss. Her simply being there did not justify such an action. Even if his intentions had never been harmful, his actions had been unjust.
"Are you alright, dear?" her mother asked. "You look pale."
"Maybe the strain has been a little too much. I think I will go home soon."
"Of course you must if you are not feeling well. Do you wish me to call the carriage?"
Sylvia nodded. She felt as if she could barely hold her tears back, but she didn't want to distress her mother. "I have a headache," she claimed.
Chapter 28
FELIX COULDN'T FIND Miss Bellworth anywhere. It appeared she had left and so had her parents. Andrew was still there, chatting with a group of people, along with the object of his affection, Miss Ester Mitchell.
For some reason, Miss Bellworth had left without saying goodbye. That was curious. Felix frowned. The kiss had not been distasteful to her, but after, she had left without saying a word. Perhaps she had objected after the fact, but she wasn't pliable simply to please people. In the moments after they'd parted company, she must have felt differently.
Felix didn't know how to take it, but with her gone, he lost all interest in the ball and the gathered group of people. There was nothing else to be gained from the evening. The crowd was growing loud and more uninhibited. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the mood for cards. He wasn't in the mood for anything else either.
So he took himself upstairs with a drink and sat in what had once been his mother's salon and sipped a glass of whiskey. There had been enough engagement that night and it exhausted him. Planning this ball had been a trial and he was glad it was over. In a few hours, the guests would all be gone and his life could return to normal.
The kiss lingered on his mind and he sighed deeply. There had been heat in the kiss, not that he had doubted there would be. There had been curiosity too. But then something had changed. Now he didn't know what that signified. If it had angered her, he wished she would have said so.
Letting himself calm, he enjoyed the whiskey and the silence. Well, it wasn't silent, because there was a ball continuing downstairs, but it was in the distance.
He would not be going down again. If a host was required to see the guests off, they were out of luck tonight. Everything he'd wanted had been achieved.
Instead he went to bed, and arose the next day to a quiet house. Cleaning was underway, and he stayed clear. By lunchtime, his house was back to normal, and the staff had all melted away. They deserved their rest. A ball was likely a taxing event for them. Perhaps he would dine out tonight and give them the day off.
Thank you cards were arriving each minute and he had no interest in them, except for one that didn't come. One came from Mrs. Bellworth, but there was nothing from Sylvia. What did this mean? Perhaps a thank you card wasn't necessary from her as she had done so much to assist him. One sent to her was in order, but did one send a thank you card after sharing a kiss like that? It seemed odd.
A letter would be more appropriate, but he didn't quite know what to say. At no point in his life had he ever been eloquent with finer feelings. Jesting and teasing he could do, but he didn't want to tease about the kiss.
Taking to his study, he sat down with a fresh sheet of paper.
Dear Friend, he started.
I was sorry to hear you left so abruptly. If the shared moment on the patio offended you, I apologize. It did not read that it did. It was a fine evening and I have you to thank for it.
He hesitated for a moment, not quite knowing what to say as he wanted to see her again—as soon as possible. Not that he could plan another ball, but he wanted them to do something together.
Would you allow me, and your brother, of course, to take you to the theatre?
That was a good choice. They could take one of the boxes and make an evening of it.
Feeling
better, he had the letter sent and waited for a reply, but it never came. At first, he suspected she was busy, but a reply didn't come the next day either. Or the day after.
Not far from Miss Bellworth's home, he stood and waited, intending to 'by chance' catch her on the street as he went for a stroll. It was freezing, but he was dressed for the weather. The cold, however, was not pleasant for his injured knee. It ached more than usual and he suspected he would have to use a warm compress on it that evening.
He hated the idea that his knee would never be well again, that this injury was something he needed to live with for the rest of his days. Many had it worse, so he shouldn't complain.
There she was. "Miss Bellworth," he called and she froze the moment she saw him. A frown drew her eyebrows together rather than the smile he had expected. "I was passing by. What luck in running into you." If she believed him, he didn't know.
"Lord Britheney," she said with a sharp nod of her head. "I am afraid I am going somewhere and cannot stop."
"You have not replied to my letter."
Without looking at him, she pressed her lips together and released them. "No," she finally said.
Felix didn't know what was going on. He didn't understand. "I thought we were friends."
"So did I," she said.
"The kiss has changed that perception for you," he stated.
"Well, until then, I hadn't realized I was one of your conquests."
Felix blinked as he absorbed her words. "I didn't realize the kiss would bother you so much. There was a moment when it seemed it didn't."
"I am not here for you to amuse yourself with and then ruin with your callousness."
"That was not my intention."
"Anyone could have walked out on the patio at any moment!"
"There wasn't anyone remotely near the door." And honestly he hadn't cared because he would have announced their engagement that very moment if it had happened. "I would have never allowed you to be ruined."
"Really? Because you tried."
Foretold Heart Page 14