Page 49 of Passions of a Wicked Earl
“I miss it as well.” Taking her in his arms, he held her. Always before he’d felt the stirrings of desire. Strange, how all he felt now was a keen interest in leaving.
Chapter 14
OceanofPDF.com
Claire had heard of Cremorne Gardens but had never visited. Her father had never been too keen on sharing the sights of London with his daughters. And the aunt who had helped with her upbringing after her mother died had never favored walking—aching joints, you know—and the gardens were designed for walking.
She’d taken great care in preparing for the evening, selecting a dress that was not quite as revealing as the gown she’d worn the night before but still designed to display the barest hint of cleavage. Beth was more modestly attired, but then she was still a maiden, whereas Claire was a married woman—one who was determined to garner her husband’s attention. Presently, they were strolling with her arm intertwined with his.
“I suppose if you spot a gentleman who would be appropriate for Beth to meet that you’d make an introduction,” Claire murmured quietly.
“No gentleman I know would be appropriate.”
He wore a burgundy jacket and dove gray trousers. Being seen with him brought her both pride and pleasure. He strode through the gardens with such confidence. She didn’t recall him exhibiting so much in his youth, perhaps because he’d always felt beneath Ainsley’s thumb—not that she could imagine Ainsley lording his position over his brother.
But she could envision Westcliffe resenting having to ask his youngest brother for so much as a farthing. She’d only ever considered what marriage had meant for her, she’d not taken into consideration what it had meant for him. He’d gained a certain amount of freedom, perhaps absolute, to be his own man.
And within hours of taking on the responsibility of a wife in order to address the responsibilities that came with his position, he’d found her within his younger brother’s arms. At the time, she’d thought only of her own fears and needs. How little she’d known about Westcliffe. How much more she was coming to know.
She should have come to London sooner. She shouldn’t have docilely accepted his edict that she remain at the estate.
“Oh, may I have some lemonade?” Beth asked brightly, holding out her hand like a child before the answer had been given.
Westcliffe looked at Claire. “Would you care for some?”
“No, thank you.”
He withdrew a coin from his pocket and handed it to Beth, who fairly skipped over to the table where beverages were being sold.
“I don’t think I was ever that young,” Claire said.
“You were.”
She looked up at Westcliffe questioningly. His jaw was clenched as though he wished he’d held his tongue. “When was I?” she asked softly.
He shook his head as though he had no answer, then he said, “You were fifteen before I realized you could walk. You were always chasing after Stephen, running to elude your sister, leaping over flowers—”
“I was dancing,” she said haughtily.
He arched a brow at her, and she relished this moment of teasing each other. In spite of his claims to want a divorce, she couldn’t help but hope she could somehow change his mind. “How could you notice all that? You were around so seldom.”
“I was around enough.”
“Why did you never join us?”
“I was the oldest. Playing was … beneath me. My father was not with us that long, but he taught me that with my rank came great responsibility. I must never do anything that would give the impression I was unworthy of the title I would someday inherit and the courtesy title I was born possessing. I envied Stephen his freedom to play, to play with you. You had the most amazing laugh.” He cleared his throat, as though suddenly uncomfortable. “I’d have not given your sister a coin had I known it would take her so long to purchase a lemonade.”
She didn’t know what to say. His words humbled her. He’d no doubt expected her laughter to fill his house once they were wed. “I didn’t know,” she finally said, devastated by all that he’d revealed. “I didn’t know you watched, I didn’t know … I didn’t know you.”
Before he could respond, if he would have responded, Beth reappeared. “You two look so melancholy. I swear you are the most boring of creatures. Come, let’s have some fun.”
She led the way as though she were the leader of a parade.
Westcliffe seemed to think their conversation was over, perhaps to be forgotten. But Claire wanted that moment remembered. She squeezed his arm, and when he glanced down on her, she gave him a secretive smile. “You know, should you ever long to hear my laughter in the future, you should know that I’m terribly ticklish. Unfortunately, it is only one spot. I wonder if you’d have any luck in finding it.”
Before he could respond, she released her hold on him and hurried to catch up with her sister, wrapping her arm around Beth’s, walking briskly along as they had when they were younger. When she glanced back, it was to see Westcliffe standing like a statue in the middle of the path, staring after her. She couldn’t judge his expression, but she did hope she’d given him something to think about.
* * *
