Page 97 of The Earl’s Forbidden Temptation

Mortification flooded Darcy from throat to breast. Had her longing been so plainly written upon her face? Tears stung her eyes, and she swallowed hard.

Sebastian looked down at the countess, and Darcy wished, with a sudden and painful intensity, that she might see his expression, but the shadows concealed his face. A sharp ache pierced her chest, and she resolved to withdraw, unwilling to intrude further upon what was clearly a private confrontation.

Then his deep sigh held her fast.

“Sometimes the meaning of an entire life turns upon a single chance meeting,” Sebastian said, his voice low but unyielding. “That is what occurred when I met Darcy Whitley.”

Darcy’s fingers tightened upon the doorframe.

“She is extraordinary. She possesses a courage, kindness, and strength I have seldom encountered. She would surrender her own hopes without hesitation to secure the happiness of her sisters, and that same generosity extends to everyone placed within her care.”

He paused, as though mastering something that threatened to break through his restraint. “It grieves her to know the pain her mother caused you. She neither excuses it nor turns from it. Instead, she bears shame for a sin that was never hers, with a humility that would disgrace those who speak most loudly of honor. She would make amends if such a thing were within her power, though she owes none.”

His voice hardened. “I will not permit you to trample upon her beneath the weight of your title or the privileges of society. Condemn me if you wish. You will not condemn her.”

A narrow bar of lamplight caught his face as he shifted, revealing a controlled fury far more dangerous than any shouted rage. Darcy’s breath shuddered, and her heart tightened painfully. His anger was for her, and the knowledge awakened a fragile warmth against which she had no defense.

“How fiercely you defend her,” the countess whispered, her voice breaking. “You disappoint me.”

“And your conduct has appalled me, Mother,” he replied with cold restraint. “Despite everything, I believed in your kindness and in your ability to place responsibility where it belongs. Tonight, you have disappointed every expectation I held of you.”

The countess stared at him, stunned, one hand rising to her breast. Sebastian bowed with rigid formality and turned toward the door.

Darcy fled.

She could not bear for him to discover her there, not while her composure lay in ruins. Her heart pounded wildly, and tears slipped unchecked down her cheeks as she hurried along the corridor.

He cares for me.

The realization struck with painful force. He is not indifferent. Whatever had driven him to end their connection, it was not an absence of feeling. With unsteady hands, Darcy wiped away her tears and struggled to regain control before re-entering the ballroom.

Music, laughter, and glittering elegance surrounded her as though nothing of consequence had occurred, while within her, the entire world had shifted. She found Elizabeth, Agatha, and Lily standing together, and arranged a smile that felt dangerously fragile.

Agatha’s gaze sharpened at once. “What is amiss?”

“Nothing,” Darcy said, though the word emerged too tightly. “I believe I shall take my leave⁠—”

“No.” Elizabeth clasped her hand with gentle firmness. “You are quite pale and plainly require a moment. Come with us to the terrace. Once you are restored, you may decide whether to remain or go.”

Darcy lacked the strength to protest. She allowed them to guide her away while unshed tears burned behind her eyes. Perhaps she had erred in coming to London. Her sisters wrote often, their letters filled with delight in their new home and affection for their grand-aunt. Darcy could not help wondering whether she ought to have remained with them, where duty might have occupied her days, and distance might eventually have quieted her wounded heart.

The cool night air upon the terrace offered a small measure of relief.

“Will you tell us what happened?” Agatha asked softly.

Darcy drew a slow breath and recounted the confrontation, then, after a moment’s hesitation, repeated what she had overheard in the library.

Elizabeth frowned. “I have spoken with Lady Raine several times and always found her charming and considerate. Such cruelty is unlike her. What could have provoked it?”

Agatha regarded Darcy for a long moment before a knowing expression touched her face. “The earl cares for you,” she said gently. “Deeply. It was evident not merely in what he said, but in the manner in which he defended you. My husband has often spoken of Raine’s honor, even when his conduct gives society reason to doubt it.”

Hope stirred painfully within Darcy, met at once by caution.

A spark of mischief and purpose entered Agatha’s eyes. “I believe I have a plan that will determine, once and for all, whether he considers you a fleeting attachment or something far more lasting.” She tilted her head. “Do you possess the courage to see it through?”

Darcy looked at the three women beside her, their companionship wrapped around her like a fragile shield. For the first time in years, she did not feel alone beneath the weight of her burden. Before she could agree to any scheme, they deserved the truth.

“My mother was Sebastian’s father’s mistress,” she said quietly. “She helped fracture a marriage built upon trust and loyalty. Whatever affection existed between them was tainted by betrayal, and Lady Raine believes I have inherited my mother’s character.”