Page 19 of One Night of Temptation
“But you told me.” Her voice was gentle, reverent. “Why wouldn’t you tell them? Your family sounds so close. Closer than mine, anyway.”
“I felt alone. My younger sister was barely out of swaddling clothes, and my older sister and brothers simply carried on. My father was sad, but no one revealed the depths of their emotions. That’s just how we are.”
“I’m not sure you’re that way,” she said, eyeing him.
“I am, actually.”
“You’ve revealed plenty to me in the brevity of our acquaintance.”
He realized he had. “That’s…strange. You must be special.” When he uttered the word, he knew it was true.
“My family does not display the depths of their emotions either. No, that’s not accurate. They show plenty of disgust and disapproval and anger.” She sawed angrily at her beef.
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take away the pain they clearly caused her. Why else would she have risked herself in this mad scheme? They’d arranged a life for her that she didn’t want, that she couldn’tabide. How could someone do that to their child? As much as his father had wanted him to pursue another livelihood, he’d never denigrated Hugh’s choice.
“I wish I could protect you from them,” he said.
She looked up at him. “Thank you. I am hopeful this endeavor”—she waved her utensils—“will accomplish that. Perhaps I’ll be shipped off to Lancashire.”
He thought again how far away Lancashire was.
Mayfair may as well be just as far, you dolt.
Their connection wasn’t permanent. It was a temporary situation born of necessity. He tried not to think past the present, and when he did, his insides felt hollow.
This was absurd. He’d just met her. She would go back to her life tomorrow, and in time he would have forgotten about this entire night.
Only he wouldn’t. Of that he was completely certain.
He glanced toward the window, not that he could see anything for it had grown dark while they’d eaten dinner. He took another drink of wine, wishing he could return to the warm feelings of a few minutes ago, before thoughts of the future had poisoned the present.
She yawned.
“Are you tired?” he asked, hoping she wasn’t. If they only had this night, he wanted to enjoy every moment of it.
“No. Too much wine and brandy and ale, I think. It’s quite early for me.”
Because Society events didn’t start until later and lasted well past midnight. He was suddenly fascinated with learning what Lady Penelope did to pass her evenings. “What would you be doing if you were at home?”
She cocked her head to the side. “Any number of things. We would go to a ball or a series of routs or perhaps a dinner party.”
“What happens at a rout?” he asked. She made a face, and he laughed. “That doesn’t recommend the event.”
“It’s mostly an excuse to see and be seen.”
“I thought that’s what the park was for.”
She gave him a serious stare that was contradicted by her sardonic tone. “Yes, but at a rout, you’rein evening clothes. So it’s an entirely different opportunity to see and be seen.”
“Indeed, that’sincrediblydifferent.” He laid the sarcasm on extremely thick and was rewarded with a brilliant smile. “Do you dance at a rout?”
She shook her head. “You pay your respects to the host and hostess, you do your seeing and being seen, and you go to the next one.”
“That sounds rather…boring. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You are correct. But then, most of it is boring.”
Nothing she’d said so far that day had been so pleasing. Well, almost nothing. “Does that include balls? I’ve never been to one.”
