Page 104 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
Though he might be breaking her heart right now, she would be the better for it in the end.
ChapterTwenty-Two
The next afternoon, Louisa sat alone on the terrace, looking out over the garden to the lake beyond. She could just see the curve of the far shore, and the beginning of the copse of willow trees. She knew she had to learn to forget what had happened there.
Sipping her tea, she contemplated her future, proud of the logical way she was dealing with her life. After Simon had dressed last night, his sad regrets did not change anything. He’d left her to sleep alone, and she’d lain awake long into the night.
Her love was hopeless; she understood that now. She’d helped him grow and change and accept that his blindness didn’t mean an end to his old way of life. She had to give herself some small congratulations on that.
But he could not “see” himself as a married man. Intimacy with her had not changed that.
It was time to return to London, to try to find her own life, because it wasn’t going to include Simon. She could not quite give up hope that her dream to help girls prepare for their first Season wasn’t dead. The women she daily encountered here knew nothing of her reputation; why would the newly rich industrialists have heard? Or at least their wives, the ones who mattered as far as hiring Louisa. If the men in the families knew otherwise, she would deal with it as it happened. She was no longer an innocent, and she could take care of herself.
She even had an alternate plan; she could always live with her sister, Victoria, in London. She had a dowry at her disposal, and there would be men who wanted to marry her. She would have to accept one of them eventually, but she was confident she could choose a decent man who would accept her good intentions for the marriage, though she did not come to him a virgin. She would never love him, of course, but she had the memories of Simon to sustain her.
Her grief welled up again, surprising her. She had already decided to turn him away the next time he came to her. She had taken the risk of loving him, and had failed. Giving herself over to the pleasure of him could only lead to them being caught in a compromising position, or worse, leaving her with child. In her early plans, she hadn’t considered the innocent life of a baby. She’d been swept up in her excitement, in her need for Simon. Might she even be pregnant now? She would not allow herself to panic until she had to. But she could not be so careless again.
So she would leave, and soon. She was surprised how sad she found the thought of leaving this wonderful family. Lady Wade treated her as a granddaughter, and Georgie shared confidences as a dear friend…or a sister. Even Mr. Wade—Leo—had brightened her days. She had long since put aside the immature ways he had once pursued her.
As if she had conjured him, Leo came out of the manor and stood beside her, arms folded over his chest. He glanced down at her with amusement, then out across the grounds.
“Well, is the view as lovely as your preoccupation with it suggests?” he asked playfully.
She smiled up at him, patted the chair beside her, and hoped he could amuse her. She had to lift her spirits, or be reduced to crying.
~oOo~
“Well, that’s interesting,” Georgie said.
Simon was sitting at his desk, but he knew his sister stood at the window. “What’s interesting?”
“I can see Leo and Louisa laughing together on the terrace.”
A knot congealed in Simon’s stomach, and he told himself to ignore it. After all, Louisa could have any friends she wanted. And by insisting that they would never marry, he’d freed her to pursue a life without him.
But with Leo?
Simon knew he was overreacting. She had always been a woman at ease with men. That would do her in good stead finding a husband.
But the pain in his heart burned steadily, and learning to ignore it might take a lifetime.
There was always Georgie to worry about.
“Paul has been visiting quite a lot lately,” he said.
“Yes.”
She was doing a good job of sounding perfectly normal.
“And it seems like more than a friendship might be developing between you.”
“We’ll see.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
He heard her flounce into the chair beside him. “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me in that dubious-sounding voice. You’ve wanted me to go out in Society, to find my own life. A man starts calling on me—a good friend of yours!—and now you have reservations?”
He sighed. “I’m worried that you’re settling for him because he’s an old friend, and therefore less intimidating than a stranger. You’ve barely had a chance to meet men.”
