Page 42 of One Waltz with the Viscount

Even so, she felt a surge of anger towards Lord Routledge. He had been the one who had sat her down and explained why he could not do the honourable thing and marry her after their first kiss. She didn’t expect marriage, she didn’t really know what she expected or wanted, but she wished she didn’t feel quite so rejected.

Crossing her arms over her body, Sarah went to the window and peeked out, wondering if he had alighted from the carriage and tried to follow her into the lodging house. But the street was empty, the carriage gone, and with it Lord Routledge.

That told her exactly what she needed to know. He might desire her—and feel genuine regret that he had allowed his baser instincts to take him over—but not enough to keep him from his real life, not even for a few minutes.

‘Enough,’ she declared to herself. She would meet Lord Routledge one final time to find out what he had discovered from the gentleman’s club Selina had tried to gain access to. Then she would thank him for his help and release him from any further obligation. Lord Routledge could return to his balls and his debutantes and his search for a suitable wife to placate his father, and she would continue looking for Selina alone.

‘Always alone,’ she murmured and then shook her head. It was her choice to be alone. She could have spent the last six months dancing at the assembly rooms and hunting for a husband, but instead she had diligently applied herself to finding work that would give her a good life. It was her choice to be alone—a positive decision, not a negative one—and she would learn to embrace it.

With a sigh she turned away from the window and sat down on her bed. She had to hope Lord Routledge would uncover something at the gentleman’s club, for she was struggling to find any other trace of Selina. She did not want to leave London without her, but in a few weeks she would have to make the choice of whether she should continue looking and forfeit her job, or leave without knowing what had happened to her sister.

Chapter Thirteen

Henry glanced around him, feeling on edge. Everywhere he looked couples strolled arm in arm, their faces obscured by the masks they wore and the darkness of the gardens. Now he was regretting his decision to meet Miss Shepherd here, rather than pick her up in the carriage.

He’d thought it would be the safer option, given how they had lost control in the carriage the day before, but now he was doubting whether Miss Shepherd was going to turn up and, if she did, whether he would see her.

Earlier in the day he had sent a note to her lodging house suggesting they meet at Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens at eight o’clock. He had included a ticket for the gardens, given it was a special evening event with the masquerade, and packaged up a pretty mask for Miss Shepherd to wear.

Now he was standing a little inside the entrance, watching the guests coming in. Everyone was merry and in high spirits, as often happened with a masquerade. There was an air of mischief, as if the flimsy demi-masks could completely conceal people’s identities, and they may engage in more scandalous behaviour than normal.

It was about a quarter past the hour when he saw her. She was the only person coming through on her own, but she did not hesitate. It must have been the first time she had been anywhere like the pleasure gardens, yet she stepped forth with confidence. That was one of the things he admired about Miss Shepherd the most. Whatever the situation, she did not turn away or hang back. She dived in head first, whether that was visiting Southwark for a boxing match or sneaking into Shrewsbury House via a first-floor balcony door.

She looked around her, taking in the glowing lanterns that lit the paths, the women dressed in fine silk and satin dresses. Tonight she was in the same dress she had worn that first night he had met her. It was simple and elegant, and although it probably cost a fraction of what most of the dresses on display here tonight did, he found his eyes were drawn to it.

He shook his head as he corrected himself. His eyes were drawn to her.

The attraction fizzed and surged inside him as he fought to restrain it. Even from this distance he was mesmerised and, despite the disaster in the carriage yesterday, he knew he would have to tread carefully so he did not lose control tonight.

‘Good evening, Miss Shepherd, I trust you are well?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ she said, her tone clipped and cool.

‘You look exquisite tonight.’

Even from under the mask he could see the admonishing look she gave him.

‘I do not think you should speak to me like that.’

‘My apologies. I never meant to cause offence.’

‘It is not offensive. Merely unnecessary.’

He understood why she was being so formal towards him, why she was trying to keep him at a distance. Twice now they had been overcome with desire for one another. Twice he had risked ruining her, and done nothing about it. He was thankful she was such a reasonable young woman. She’d demanded nothing from him, but tonight she was keen to show him she would not allow herself to slip a third time.

He squashed the surge of disappointment he felt at the thought of never kissing Miss Shepherd again. Her lips were soft and inviting and tasted ever so sweet. His eyes drifted down to where they were set in a firm line, and quickly he remembered himself.

‘Shall we take a stroll through the gardens? It would be a shame not to make the most of the entertainment on offer tonight. I understand it is to be quite the spectacle.’

He offered her his arm—she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow after a moment’s hesitation.

‘What did you find out?’

He had to bend in close to hear her over the sound of the music and the people talking, and he didn’t answer for a second. After everything that had happened between them, he understood her desire to discuss the matter at hand immediately. Once he had imparted everything he had found out it would mean she could make her excuses and leave.

Inside his chest he felt a sharp pain at the thought. After tonight there would be no reason to see Miss Shepherd again, not if she got her way. Even if she agreed to let him help her for another couple of days, it was not long before she would leave London for ever and be for ever out of reach.

The rational part of him knew it was for the best. Whilst Miss Shepherd was here in London she would dominate his thoughts. Once she left he hoped the desire he felt—this urge he had to seek her out—would fade, and he could return to his normal self. These last few days he had hardly thought of his plan to find a respectable woman to marry. He felt guilty about it. For the past two years he had vowed to put aside his own wants and focus instead on helping Sophia, yet he had allowed himself to be distracted.