twenty-two
AFTER HAVING DANCED a gallop, a quadrille, and even a waltz, Royston had had enough.
He’d danced without following the music, tripped a few times, and improvised many times, but overall, he was happy because Angeline had told him she loved him, because holding Angeline in his arms and watching her smile always cheered him up.
The night couldn’t be more perfect. So when Mrs. Haywood had approached him at the end of the waltz, asking him to meet her in the parlour, he’d agreed.
He doubted she wanted to make peace with him, but he’d listen to her. Perhaps now that he’d soon become a member of the House of Lords, she’d give her blessings to the marriage.
On his way to the parlour, a footman, carrying a tray, stopped next to him.
“Wine, my lord?”
“Thank you.” Royston took the only glass on the tray and took a sip for courage.
The rich taste of the wine filled his mouth. There was honey, cinnamon, almonds, and something else he couldn’t place. Something pungent and bitter that stung his throat.
As he paced in the parlour alone, since Angeline was busy in the ladies’ room, he pondered what was the best way to offer an allowance to Mrs. Haywood.
She slipped inside and shut the door behind her. “Lord Wharton, thank you for agreeing to see me.”
He bowed. “Madam.”
There was a moment of silence as she studied him. He didn’t know what to say. His body sizzled with nervous energy.
“I’m sorry for my outburst from the other night, Wharton. You caught me off guard with your proposal, and you must understand Angeline is the most precious thing I have.”
“I understand. I would never hurt her, madam. I love Angeline.” He’d never tire of saying it.
“You love her.” Her features hardened.
“I really want to take care of Angeline… and of you,” he said.
“Of me?” Her voice rose a notch.
“I can provide for you more than adequately. You won’t have to keep your business practices. You can leave behind the unpleasantness and danger of that life forever and live a life of leisure.”
Her features tightened further.
“I wouldn’t let the mother of my bride risk going to prison for something I could provide,” he said.
“What a generous offer.”
“We’re going to be family soon.” He had no intention of letting her blackmail people any longer.
“I’m sure Angeline will want to see you after we talk,” she said, pouring herself a glass of wine from the sideboard. “Shall we have a toast first?”
“To what are we toasting?”
“A new beginning.”
“A new beginning.” He took a sip, and again the sweet aroma teased his taste buds, followed by the bitter flavour.
Mrs. Haywood watched him from over the rim of her glass as she sipped. “How do you feel, Lord Wharton?”
Her face blurred. The whole room blurred, but in a pleasant, comforting way if that made sense. He wasn’t panicking. He was calm, if not a little drowsy.
“I’m fine.” True. He wasn’t nervous or scared.
