Page 54 of Seducing a Frigid Lady
Priscilla was both surprised and proud of Mrs. Lyttleton at that moment. Though she often listened to the gossip laid out by other people, she most definitely never spoke of it herself, bearing silent witness to it all without ever fuelling the flames herself. It was a triumph that Priscilla greatly admired her for.
She often found herself wondering what horrendous secrets the woman might well take to her grave with her. Even more so, she wondered whether she might be able to be like that when she found herself at a similar ripened age.
If I make it that far,Priscilla thought, realising that the ache in her heart had turned to all-out pain now. It was clear to see from the look on Mrs. Lyttleton’s face just how dire Lord Sinclair’s situation truly was. Deep down, she knew it herself.It shouldn’t matter to me. I never should have allowed myself close to him in the first place.
Bile stung the back of her throat as she realised that for the first time in her life, she had to agree with something that Miss Kendall had said. It was not an occurrence she ever believed would happen, and so she quickly forced all thoughts of it away before it made her feel any worse.
“Do you hear me? Both of you?” Mrs. Lyttleton demanded when the both of them failed to answer her.
Priscilla struggled to meet the woman’s gaze. The scathing glare she was giving them felt as though it was burning her.
“Lord Sinclair’s business is no business of my own,” she declared, meeting the woman’s gaze as strongly as she was able.
Seeming satisfied with her answer, Mrs. Lyttleton turned her full attention on her daughter and glowered at her even harder than she had at Priscilla.
“Sophie Elisabeth Lyttleton, do you hear me?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest in a dominating manner.
“Yes, mama, I shall not utter a word of Lord Sinclair’s predicament.”
Sophie, an innocent blush on her face, turned her gaze down from her mother’s, and for a moment she reminded Priscilla of one of her father’s spaniels. She could almost imagine Sophie’s ears pinning back in a form of submission and uncertainty.
And all she could do was hope that Sophie would actually listen to her mother. As far as she knew, Sophie had not inherited her mother’s grand tight-lipped skills.For Lady Caroline’s sake,she thought, gritting her teeth against everything else that was trying to resurface inside her,I hope you shall keep your mouth closed, Sophie.
It was at that very moment that guilt flashed through her like a gunshot from a huntsman’s rifle. Just thinking of Lady Caroline had caused her to remember something else. She had been the one encouraging her towards the viscount in the first place.Is all of this my fault?She thought, thinking of the conversation she had shared in the gallery with Lady Caroline.
Determined to keep herself at a distance from the viscount, hoping to distract him from her, she had encouraged Lady Caroline to seek him out. Had the woman taken her up on the suggestion?
A wave of emotion overwhelmed Priscilla then and before she really knew what she was doing, she began to sob uncontrollably. She could only hope that the sound of the wheels on the cobblestones as they moved through town would disguise her cries from the outside world.
“Oh, Cilla, whatever is the matter?” Sophie exclaimed, immediately wrapping Priscilla in her arms.
Though her friend tried her best to comfort her, it did little to calm her weeping. She tried and tried to calm herself, tried to hold her breath in an attempt to stem the flow, but every time that she thought she might actually manage it a fresh wave of emotion would overwhelm her until she thought she might never be able to stop.
Anger, frustration, terror and humiliation all wrapped into one as she imagined what Mrs. Lyttleton must think of her bawling her eyes out in the back of the carriage. There was nothing she could do to get away from the eyes of the woman, and she was most surprised when Mrs. Lyttleton leaned forward in her seat and placed a hand upon her knee.
“There, there, Miss Lloyd,” Mrs. Lyttleton said softly, stroking and squeezing Priscilla’s knee ever so gently. “You must regain your composure.”
When Priscilla managed to meet the woman’s gaze, she saw a wealth of comfort and understanding in it, and yet Priscilla couldn’t imagine that she could ever possibly understand. After all, she had no idea why she was even crying. How could Mrs. Lyttleton ever hope to understand when she knew nothing of what had occurred over the last few weeks?
But then, just like that, Mrs. Lyttleton announced, “You ought not to cry over such a man, Miss Lloyd. They are hardly worth it.”
Though Priscilla was still adamant that Mrs. Lyttleton couldn’t possibly know the extent of why she was crying, the woman did indeed seem to know just what to say to calm her. She always had. In place of her own dear, departed mother, Mrs. Lyttleton had always been one of the few people who seemed to be able to look at her and know just what she needed.
And more than ever, Priscilla was grateful for her. She felt no need to explain herself and so she was able to release all of the emotions that had been building up inside of her ever since Lord Sinclair and Lord Montgomery had burst into Mr. Parr’s drawing room.
Finally, as her weeping started to subside, she took the handkerchief that Mrs. Lyttleton offered to her and wiped the tears and snot from her face. Sniffling, she declared to herself,I cannot let any of this get to me again, not like this.
She had already wasted enough time on the likes of Lord Sinclair. He had distracted her for but a moment. Now it was time to return to her earlier plans, to continue to go about her business with no real intention of giving any of her time to a single man of theton.
“There, there, everything is going to be alright,” Sophie continued to comfort her long after she had stopped openly weeping. But deep down, even as she assured herself she would not let it, she felt her heart shattering into a million tiny pieces.
Just hours later, Priscilla’s devastation had turned to outright fury. Not only at herself for ever having let Lord Sinclair close enough for her to feel anything at what she had witnessed at Mr. Parr’s home, but also because he had fooled her quite so completely into beginning to allow her usual ice-queen nature to melt.
Having retired to her bedroom as soon as she arrived home, she had remained there, pacing up and down or sprawled out on the bed, trying everything that she could to rationalise the situation and stop herself from entirely spiralling out of control.
Several times, she told herself that it was likely better just to forget everything and act as though Lord Sinclair had never existed. After all, it was likely to have come down to that in the end, anyway. How else was she going to achieve the independent lifestyle that she had always craved for herself ever since she had been old enough to learn of the alternative?
And it was just as she was beginning to feel the tears pricking her eyes once more that there was a gentle, perhaps even hesitant, knock on the door. Trying her best to regain control of herself, Priscilla stepped into the middle of the bedroom, cleared her throat, and said, “Come in.”
