The Complete Regency Bestsellers And One Winters Collection. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
lecture on the mundane, safe and boring pathways she always followed.
She hid everything, she suddenly thought. Her father. Her mother. Her work. her debts. Her past. Her beating heart when Lord Stephen Hawkhurst came anywhere near her person.
The very concern made her frown and she lifted the mask away. He was as good as engaged to the most beautiful debutante of the Season, a girl lauded for her kindness and her sweet nature. Why, then, did she even imagine that she might be able to catch and hold the eye of a man with more reason than anyone to despise her?
She was twenty-six, for goodness’ sake, and eminently sensible, a woman who after The Great Mistake had never made another. Looking up, she saw that the stars tonight lay between banks of clouds and the temperature was as warm as it ever became in an English summer. The quiet sounds of a fountain further out in the garden made her turn, as she tried to catch a glimpse of water through the darkness.
It was then that she saw him, standing not ten feet away, a cheroot in his hand, the red glow of the tip brightly arcing as he flipped it into the garden.
‘Mrs St Harlow.’
He looked less than pleased to see her.
‘Lord Hawkhurst.’
Quietly he came closer, careful not to touch, the white in his necktie standing out boldly.
‘Do you think that our salvation might lie in formality?’ His voice sounded tired and wary, the slur of his words indicating that he had drunk far more than he should have.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You and I, my lady. Do we skirt around each other forever or do we take a chance and see just where it is this attraction could lead us?’
‘You speak in riddles, my lord.’ She hated the forced joviality in her voice, a tone she had so often used with Charles.
‘Do I?’ He reached out then, and caught her hand, the anger in him felt in even such a small movement. ‘The riddle of lust is not so hard to comprehend.’ Laying his finger against her wrist, he waited. ‘See, it is in your blood tonight, calling me, remembering the other times between us…’
‘No.’ Her husband had done this, too, pressuring her at the most inopportune of moments, expecting a response, but she was wiser now and older and the horror that blossomed was like a weapon. ‘You have had too much to drink, my lord, and your mind is addled.’ She threw off his touch, pleased when his hands stayed at his side.
‘Not addled, but disappointed. The culmination of a life’s work, I suppose, and too little goodness in it.’ He tipped his head. ‘Are you God-sent, Aurelia? Could you heal the demons that lurk inside me once and for all?’
A different tack. His hands shook more tonight than she had ever seen them do. The wine, perhaps, or the memories?
‘I thought you had already refused my prior suggestion of…closeness, Lord Hawkhurst?’
‘Those suggestions given without any form of passion?’ He laughed. ‘I am not seeking to be a pawn of politics.’
‘Then what is it you are after?’
‘I only wish I knew.’
The silence lengthened, though it was not difficult or uncomfortable. Wordlessness had its own sort of communication after all, the small turn of a head, the warmth of body heat, the smell of violets and woodsmoke mixed as one.
Finally he spoke again. ‘From what I have heard, the state of your union with my cousin was not exactly holy.’
Tonight with all that he knew of her she could no longer skirt around the truth. ‘Indeed, our marriage was a mistake.’
‘So you killed him?’
In the half-light she saw a tick in the muscle of his jaw, as if he were holding it tense against an answer and the anger in her was as raw as it had been four years ago. ‘I cannot deny that I wanted to, though in the end Charles died from his own lack of morals. He brutally raped a pregnant servant and her distraught father made sure that there would be no further…indiscretions. Every woman on the estate probably breathed a little easier that afternoon. I know I did.’
‘You told the court this?’
‘No. I told them only what it was I had seen.’
‘Which was…?’
‘I said that my husband had jumped across a poorly constructed barrier whilst exercising his favourite horse and had fallen badly.’
The music inside the ballroom reached them here, soft and lilting against the harsh truth, her candid honesty allowing the sort of relief she could barely believe was possible and even when he remained silent she did not wish to take it back.
‘The consideration of any family name is important, do you not think, my lord? I felt that generations of Hawkhursts suffering for the poor judgement of one weak-willed relative was unfair and so I chose to offer another explanation.’
When his eyes darkened she turned to watch the night, hating the way her heart beat so very quickly.
Aurelia St Harlow had allowed herself to be ostracized for years for a crime she had not committed and all in the guise of protection? She was a saint rather than a sinner and if his cousin had materialised out of the darkness then and there he would have killed him himself for everything he had put her through: a court case public and damning and the whispers of her involvement in Charles’s demise following her every move.
He remembered the way she had come through the crowd at his ball as the ton had given her the cut direct, her chin held high and a smile set on her face. Like a player just before the curtain rises, a certain brittle confidence in her eyes allowing only the glimpse of fright.
‘A difficult secret.’
Her small nod in response made him swear.
‘And a fiction that has held you a prisoner for years?’
This time she looked at him directly. ‘There is no way to refute all that has been said of me and I would countenance no suggestions otherwise. It is not redemption I am searching for, my lord.’ Her fingers rose to her neck and he saw that the small diamond pendant he had recovered was back in place. ‘Once my sisters are settled into society and I have sold my business I can retire with my father into the very depths of the countryside and I shall never look back.’
The distress in her eyes made his heart ache. She was like a small and single rose trying to survive through a crack in concrete.
‘A sombre ending for a woman who has sacrificed herself for the good of others. If it were me, I should continue on with the colourful gowns and confuse everybody. What more could they say of you, after all?’
Her left hand pulled at the gaping silk of her bodice, trying to close it. ‘Once I might not have cared, but now…’
He laughed. ‘You are the most fearsome female of my acquaintance, Aurelia. Do not let anyone tell you differently.’
Her smile brought deep dimples to her cheeks. ‘I will take that as a compliment, my lord.’
‘My cousin never deserved you. He was a man who even as a boy was not easy. He lost his parents just after I lost mine and maybe because of it was damaged. In the end I gave up on trying to know him.’
‘Which is why I never saw you at Medlands.’
He shook his head. ‘There were other reasons, too.’
‘You were in Europe?’
‘For a long time.’ He smiled.
He wished he could have said more. He wondered at his cousin’s rumoured predilection for racy women and fast parties. What had Aurelia seen in a man so untrustworthy and selfish and why had she married him in the first place? So many questions to ask and to answer, hers and his, the worlds they inhabited underpinned by unrevealed