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Another apology? Miracles did happen. She could not help the scornful thought. “Judgement being the key concept here.”
“I had a bad experience years ago,” he offered.
Through the years, they had met sporadically. She had not the slightest idea what his life had been like in town, except for the general facts of his work, family, or where he lived. “Nobody goes through life unscathed, I would say.”
“I came close to being betrothed.” The information careened in her head, causing an undeniable red-hot wave of…jealousy. “In the end, she had only been interested in my future title.”
Understanding dawned with that. “Which led you to assume every woman without a social standing is the same.”
“There you have it.” His fists came to his tapered waist, pushing the ends of his coat backwards. Its movement evidenced the broadness of his taut chest. The one she had caressed in every way under the sun. The one that abraded her breasts in the throes of passion.
The one she missed touching with wrenching longing.
She must go. The dowager would be up any minute now. And Otilia needed to put distance between her and the intolerably attractive man if she wanted to keep a shred of self-preservation.
Striving to project a cool exterior, she curtsied. “Apologies accepted, my lord.” Her spine straightened, and she crashed with a fierce look of hunger in him. It scalded each cell in her. “Have a good day.” In a decisive move, she turned and left.
A
The next morning, as she finished breakfast, a footman came to give her a parcel that had just been delivered in her name. Otilia stole to her humble chamber at the far end of the hall before the dowager awoke. The open brown paper revealed Emma, from an unknown author. The same she had been holding in the bookshop. Edmund.
A wave of an inner smile followed by one edging tear conflicted within her.
Inside the hardcover, a note.
You made it clear you want nothing from me. But an apology gift should not be too awkward to accept.
E.
Dash the man! And darn herself for loving his gift. Worse still, for treasuring it.
Before any of the above-mentioned reactions got the best of her, she made haste to start her duties. The book stayed on her bedside table, to be read when she retired for the night.
Otilia met the Dowager Marchioness in her personal drawing room, sitting at her escritoire.
Her coiffured white head lifted to her. “Good morning, Miss Kendall.”
“My lady.” She curtsied and sat on a nearby chair.
“I am planning to have guests over for dinner next week.” She folded the missive she had been writing. “I would like to request of you to act as chaperone to my granddaughter Edwina.” Warming the wax, she sealed it. “Her parents will be otherwise engaged and cannot attend.”
“It will be a pleasure, Lady Mandeville,” she answered with a meek
voice.
As a chaperone, she would not be allowed to fade in a corner while her employer entertained her guests. Otilia would need to take full part in the event. Not a very enthusiastic prospect to be among the ton anew. But she must handle the task cast upon her.
A
Edmund’s exclusive reason for accepting Lady Charlotte’s dinner invitation was because of her…staff. Alright, because he would get to see Otilia. He admitted it to himself as he sat in his carriage impeccably attired in black.
The dowager’s machinations were too clear to be ignored. He would bet his fortune on one of the guests being her elder granddaughter, with matchmaking intentions not so hidden behind the social occasion.
Marriage had to be the farthest thing from his mind right now. Marriage and everything else, to be sure. There was solely one thing in his heart. One person. One woman. And she would not leave the stubborn organ for the life of him.
The other day, he had been walking along the street as he returned to his offices after luncheon, when a glimpse of a drab dress caught his eye. Edmund would notice the woman even dressed in rags. Ruthlessly, he had followed her into the shop.
His first impulse was to press her against the shelf and kiss her senseless. But the icy stance she had directed at him did not encourage such effusiveness. Those ardours did not lessen though. Her crimson flush told him he had not been alone in that misery.
