Page 26 of One Waltz with the Viscount

She walked as fast as she could, head bent and her gaze fixed on the ground. Lord Routledge kept up easily, but he didn’t try to touch her or talk to her, sensing perhaps she might either snap at him or burst into tears.

The walk to her lodgings did not take much time, given her speed, and she was soon ascending the steps to the front door, key in hand.

‘Miss Shepherd,’ Lord Routledge called out.

She paused, but did not turn, not trusting herself to look at him.

‘Forgive me. I took advantage of you in the worst way imaginable. I am sorry.’

Her mind flashed back to the way his lips had felt on hers, the wonderful warmth that had flooded through her body as he had pulled her into his arms. She didn’t want to admit how good it had felt to have that intimacy. It went against everything she had promised herself, to keep her from suffering the same fate as her mother, yet she knew if she were to relive the moment again she would not push Lord Routledge away.

‘Thank you for taking me to the opera, I think it best we end our acquaintance now, Lord Routledge.’

‘There is no need for that, Miss Shepherd. This was a moment of madness, nothing else. No one saw us.’

Sarah pressed her lips together, digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand. She shouldn’t be surprised that Lord Routledge was unshaken by their kiss, no doubt he had women clamouring for his attention all the time. He’d probably shared a dozen such kisses with different women over the last few years.

Closing her eyes to ward off momentary vertigo, she turned to face Lord Routledge. She couldn’t tell him that, for him, it may have been a moment of madness, but for her it was her first kiss. Perhaps her only kiss. Her focus at least over the next few years needed to be on building a life where she could support herself. There would be no time for courtship, and any dalliance no doubt would be frowned upon by her employers. She was determined to be independent, not to rely on a man for her security. Her mother had struggled their entire lives to provide for them, eking out the little money she’d received from their father and supplementing it with whatever job she could find. Sarah wanted a different life for herself, a better life.

Despite all of this, despite the sensible part of her telling her to walk away, as she looked at Lord Routledge she felt the invisible pull, the attraction that had plagued her ever since he’d first pressed her up against the wall in the library.

She glanced at his lips and then quickly looked away.

‘It is late,’ she said curtly. ‘I cannot think properly. I will consider things tomorrow after a night’s sleep.’

Forcing herself to turn and climb the last few steps she found she was disappointed when Lord Routledge did not call out. Somewhere deep inside, she could admit that a small part of her wanted him to run up the stairs and pull her into his arms, declaring he could not live without her before kissing her senseless.

Of course it didn’t happen. Sarah slipped into the dark hall of the lodging house and closed the door behind her, resting her head on the cool wood. She let out a little self-indulgent whimper and then rallied. Tonight had been a terrible mistake, but Lord Routledge was right, there should be no long-lasting consequences. At least...none beyond her bruised heart.

Chapter Nine

Henry had not slept and had risen at the crack of dawn, frustrated with the hours he had spent in bed without any rest. He felt like a cad. Miss Shepherd was a vulnerable young woman, someone with no family or friends to look out for her welfare, and he had taken advantage of her. He’d allowed himself to act on the desire he felt for her when he should have suppressed it.

He thought of the kiss, the sweet taste of her lips and the way her body had felt pressed against his, and for a moment he was back in the dark corridor in the opera house. It had been a dangerous situation and, what was worse, he knew if they had not been interrupted by the door opening he would have gone further. They had both been so caught up in the moment and their attraction for one another, who knew where it would have stopped.

He needed to make things right, on two fronts. Firstly, he would focus his efforts on narrowing down the selection for a suitable wife. She needed to be wealthy and from a good family, someone who would satisfy his father as well as be tolerable to live with. He didn’t trust his own judgement after his awful marriage to Anne, but he was willing to put aside his reservations for the sake of mending the rift that had separated him from his sister.

The second thing he needed to do was make things right with Miss Shepherd. He was thankful she was a highly practical young woman, who had not even hinted that his impropriety should lead to a proposal. In truth he should offer to marry her. He had compromised her, kissed her in public, and it was only through sheer luck that no one had seen.

He shuddered at the thought. Miss Shepherd was a pleasant young woman who he felt an undeniable attraction to, but his previous marriage had taught him there could not be happiness when two people of vastly different social classes married. The gulf between them was too big, the obstacles impossible to overcome.

What he could do was apologise again and then help her find her sister. He knew all would be forgiven and forgotten if he could reunite Miss Shepherd with her errant sibling.

That was why he was standing outside Miss Shepherd’s lodging house at three o’clock in the afternoon, steeling himself to approach.

He knocked on the front door and waited, hearing shuffling footsteps inside. An elderly woman opened the door and inspected him from head to toe, softening only slightly as she took in his well-tailored jacket and smart appearance.

‘No gentleman visitors allowed inside,’ she said, starting to close the door on him.

‘I am calling for Miss Shepherd, I am due to meet her this afternoon.’

‘Not in here.’

‘I am happy to step out with her, but please could you let her know I am here.’

The old woman muttered something under her breath and closed the door. Henry listened carefully but couldn’t hear anything through the thick wood. He had no way of knowing if she was going to alert Miss Shepherd to his presence at all.

He waited five minutes, then ten, arms crossed and foot tapping on the stone of the steps. He was just about to contemplate if there was another way to get a message to Miss Shepherd when the door opened and she slipped out, closing it firmly behind her.