Page 75 of Passions of a Wicked Earl
“We must welcome her immediately.”
Beth made a move to get to her feet, and Claire grabbed her arm, stilling her actions. “I shall see her. Alone.”
“But, Claire, why? To be accepted by her—”
“Willoughby, on whom is she calling?” Claire asked the butler, hoping to put a swift end to further argument with Beth.
“You, my lady.”
Claire handed Beth the string. “Keep Fen occupied, please.”
Beth pouted, then shrugged. “Very well.”
With the butler’s assistance, Claire rose to her feet. She did hope Lady Anne was gone before Westcliffe returned. She couldn’t imagine what the woman wanted. Or perhaps she could imagine only too clearly because her stomach was knotting. Ridiculous really.
If Westcliffe held no affection for Claire, surely he’d not continue to come to her bed and to remain there all night so he awoke to her each morning. He wouldn’t hold her near. He wouldn’t murmur in her ear. He wouldn’t make her feel cherished. While he’d never proclaimed undying love, she couldn’t help but feel that they were growing closer.
Inside the residence, she removed her bonnet and gloves, tidied her hair, and pinched her cheeks, not that they really needed any more color. She strolled as casually and calmly as she could to the parlor, taking pride in how welcoming it felt. She had truly begun to make the house into a home.
As Claire entered the parlor, Lady Anne Cavill turned from the window. Her pale green dress was the perfect accent to her red-tinted hair.
“My lady,” Claire began, grateful that her voice did not quiver and give away her nerves, “how kind of you to call. I’ve sent for tea.”
“I doubt I’ll be here that long.” She extended a creamy white envelope. “I’m having a ball, and I wanted to personally extend an invitation.”
Claire took the invitation. “Thank you. I’d—I’d not expected such kindness. Particularly after our last encounter.”
Lady Anne blushed, her high cheekbones almost scarlet. “I must apologize for my behavior that night. I still had hope that I would be victorious. But it seems, my dear, that Westcliffe has developed an affection for you. He has informed me that there is no hope for anything between us.”
Studying her, Claire did not think she could take being turned aside so calmly, not if she truly cared for the man. Now that she knew Westcliffe, she thought she would fight for him tooth and nail. “Will it not be difficult to have us present at your ball? I know it was no secret that you were his lover.”
“And now it is no secret that I am not. But I’ve never been one to seek solace in shadows. I enjoyed his company and am grateful for the time we had together. I have little doubt that he will be reluctant to accept the invitation. As I’m sure you’re aware, he has never been one to welcome attention. But it would truly mean the world to me if you would attend my ball. I believe in time we could become friends.”
Claire thought that highly unlikely. The woman was too cold. She couldn’t see Westcliffe wanting to be with this woman. But neither was she one to run from an uncomfortable situation. Not any longer. “I shall certainly consider it, and I shall talk with West—”
“Oh, Fenimore, come back here!”
Suddenly, Fenimore was scampering into the parlor, with Beth quickly in pursuit. Claire had the sneaking suspicion that it was not by accident that the dog had escaped his leash and run into the parlor to create havoc.
“Oh, please get him away!” Lady Anne exclaimed as Fen threw his small wiggling body against her skirt. “I can’t tolerate the creatures.”
“I’m so sorry,” Claire began, bending down and picking up the excited Fen.
Clearing her throat, Beth nudged Claire’s arm, giving Claire cause to remember her manners. “Lady Anne Cavill, allow me to present my sister, Lady Beth.”
Claire thought perhaps she’d misread the earlier chill because the smile their guest bestowed upon Beth was warm and sincere. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you. You are all the talk among the gentlemen.”
Beth blushed with pleasure. “Thank you, my lady.”
“I daresay Lord Greenwood has set his cap for you. He is quite the catch. I hear he is of good fortune, three thousand a year, and when he inherits, it will be far more than that.”
Beth’s smile quivered. “It is not his potential wealth that draws me to him.”
“But it is his wealth that will keep you warm, fed, and clothed. Do not take offense at what I’ve told you. When a man is of independent means, then you can be assured that his affections for you are based solely on yourself, which was all I was attempting to convey with my feeble efforts. My husband, may he rest in peace, married me for my dowry. It was a cold, loveless marriage. Sometimes I think he even resented that I was responsible for getting him out of debt. I was not sorry to see him pass, which no doubt makes me appear heartless, but there is nothing worse than knowing a man visits your bed out of obligation rather than desire.”
Lady Anne’s parting words haunted Claire long after their guest had left.
“We are going to go to Lady Anne’s ball, aren’t we?” Beth asked.
