Page 22 of Tempting Harriet
He was very much afraid that it had been a dreadful mistake. Not to change his mind about marrying her. He had done the right thing there. Marriage with Harriet wouldnever have worked, not six years ago and not now. His mistake had been in beginning a liaison with her. It had seemedlike a good idea and heaven knew he had desired herstrongly enough. But it was not working. And yet it was fartoo late now to go back. What had happened was irreversible.
The trouble was that he could not seem to school himself into thinking of her only as a woman—only as a body to beenjoyed. He had just spent an hour and a half desperatelytrying to do just that, using her with a power and an energythat must have exhausted her strength almost beyond endurance. Three separate times—although there had been almost no interval between—he had wound up her desire andhis own almost to breaking point and then pounded into herquite ruthlessly, denying both of them release until the tension could be borne not one second longer. He had playedwith her without tenderness or mercy, making pleasure anagony for her as well as for himself.
And yet he had failed in what he had tried to do. For every moment of that hour and a half she had been Harriet,his sweet, prim, grave, charming little blusher. Even thoughhe had used her far more vigorously than he had ever usedeven the most hardened whore. She had been Harriet. Andher body had done what her eyes had always done. It hadgiven openly and candidly, reserving no secrets for itself.
Two months. That was what he had left with her if he could hold his grandmother at bay for that long. Twomonths during which to have enough of her, during whichto begin to tire of her. It was bound to happen, was it not?Especially if he went at her with such vigor twice eachweek for those two months. It had to be long enough.
He knew it would not be nearly long enough.
He knew it would be far too long.
He loved her, now as always. He would still love her in July. And in July of next year. And ten years from now.
Chapter 8
“Interesting letters, dear?” Lady Forbes asked at the breakfast table.
Harriet’s head snapped up. “Oh, I do beg your pardon, Amanda,” she said. “Am I being unpardonably rude? I shallleave the other one until later.”
“No, no.” Lady Forbes waved a careless hand. “I have told you repeatedly, Harriet, that you must not stand on ceremony here. You must treat our house as if it were yourown.”
“Thank you.” Harriet smiled gratefully. “Clara and Mr. Sullivan are at Ebury Court with the children. They will notcome to town this Season, she says, as they consider thebaby still too young to be taken from the country. And, ofcourse, they will not leave him behind.”
“I still cannot believe the transformation of Freddie Sullivan,” Lady Forbes said. “It seems that what they say about reformed rakes must have some truth in it, if you will forgive me for using such an indelicate word, my dear.”
“Well, he was one,” Harriet said. “I was dreadfully dismayed when Clara decided to marry him even though she knew very well that all he wanted was her fortune. Theirmarriage has turned out marvelously well.” She sighed andreturned her attention to her plate.
“You may open your other letter too without regard for me,” Lady Forbes said.
“Very well, then.” Harriet smiled at her again and picked it up. “Clara wants me to go there, you know. Either for afew days during the Season or for a lengthier stay duringthe summer. Or both.”
“I do hope you will not leave us before the Season is out,” Lady Forbes said in some alarm. “Not when I havesuch high hopes for you, dear. Mr. Hardinge must be on thevery brink of a declaration, surely. And such a very properand pleasant young man.”
“No.” Harriet colored. “I don’t believe I will be able to drag myself away before the Season is out. But I think Iwill go to Ebury Court during the summer. I will enjoy seeing Clara again, and it will be lovely for Susan to have thecountryside to run and play in and Clara’s boys to playwith.” She looked down at her other letter.
“Perhaps by that time,” Lady Forbes said coyly, “you will have a wedding to plan, dear. And Mr. Hardinge has asmall country estate, as you must know.”
“Oh,” Harriet said. “Lady Sophia Davenport is in town. With her sister-in-law. What an amazing lady she is. Shenever makes a secret of the fact that she is eighty-six yearsold. And yet she has traveled from home. She is inviting usto call on her this afternoon, Amanda.”
Lady Forbes pulled a face. “I am afraid I make a point of avoiding her as much as I can when we are in Bath,” shesaid. “It is very unkind of me, but I hate having to sayeverything twice, once loudly and the second time in ashout. I believe Clive and I will definitely be attending theSmith garden party this afternoon that I have been ditheringover. In fact, we are under some obligation to go. And youtoo, my dear. ”
“I think I should go to see Lady Sophia,” Harriet said.
Lady Forbes grimaced. “You put me to shame, Harriet,” she said. “It was that saintliness and that kindness to the elderly that Godfrey always adored in you and that madeClive and me come to love you when we had been preparedto dislike you intensely. There, I have never told you thathave I?”
“Well,” Harriet said, “Iwasa penniless nobody. And Ididmarry Godfrey for the security he could offer me.”
“And made his last four years heaven on earth,” Lady Forbes said briskly, pushing back her chair and getting toher feet. “Are you coming to Bond Street with me thismorning? I feel the urge to purchase a new bonnet though Ineed one about as much as I need a headache.”
“But there is a garden party this afternoon to wear a new bonnet for,” Harriet said with a smile. “No, I plan to spendthe morning with Susan. Sometimes I feel guilty aboutspending so little time with her.”
Lady Forbes raised her eyes to the ceiling. “My dear,” she said, “many children are fortunate if they see theirmothers for two minutes after breakfast and for one at bedtime.” She went off about her business while Harriet finished her breakfast.
Harriet looked down at Lady Sophia Davenport’s letter and smiled ruefully. It was rather difficult to be in companywith her, especially if there were several people in the roomand more than one conversation in progress. But then thelady could not help the fact that she had grown old and lostmost of her hearing any more than Godfrey had been ableto help having a weak heart and being unable to walk fastor dance or do a number of other things that his wife hadhad energy for. Age and physical infirmity did not make aperson less human and did not excuse the impatience andeven contempt with which they were so often treated. Harriet—and her husband—had always visited Lady Sophiamore often than anyone else in Bath.
The house to which she had been invited was on St. James’s Square. Very grand. Lady Sophia was a duke’sdaughter and a marquess’s widow, Harriet remembered.The sister-in-law must be the wife of the present duke orthe sister of the marquess if her home was on St. James’sSquare. It was Wednesday and Harriet’s afternoon wasfree. It was a good thing the letter had not come one daylater. She would have had to send an excuse.
Tomorrow. Harriet went into a dream while her finger unconsciously traced a pattern on the letter. She knew shewould go—again. There was no point in trying to persuadeherself that she would think about it and come to a decisionlater. She longed for him. Three days seemed an eternity. Itdid not matter that she hated the lies she had to tell and feltthat she was abusing the hospitality of Sir Clive and LadyForbes. It did not matter that she felt unclean, unworthy ofMr. Hardinge or any of the other gentlemen who stillcrowded about her wherever she appeared in public. It didnot even matter that she sometimes had the feeling shewould contaminate Susan.
