Page 37 of An Enchanting Dare

30thJune 1841, Trevick Castle, Warwickshire.

Aisling stared at herself in the mirror. Though it was hard to explain why, she was calm. Perhaps because she was so tired of living a lie, of waiting for someone to reveal the terrible truth. If it happened tonight, it might be a relief in some ways. Or perhaps it resulted from the ritual cleansing Biddy had helped her with. The scent of the herbs and perfumed oils she’d used still clung to her, rising with her body’s warmth, quieting her agitated nerves. Biddy believed she could find her way through this evening. She had read her cards and told her Aisling held more power than she realised, and she clung to that belief.

Low voices pierced her thoughts, and she realised her maid had opened the bedroom door and her mother was here.

“Mama,” she said, smiling and getting to her feet.

“Oh, Aisling. How beautiful you look.” Mama put a hand to her mouth and blinked back tears before holding out her arms to her.

Aisling went into them and hugged her tightly.

“I’ll crush your dress,” she murmured, swallowing down the desire to cry.

“Never mind that. No one will look at me when you are standing there.”

“Such nonsense,” Aisling laughed, for her mother was a beautiful woman with a vivacious nature and a laugh that still turned men’s heads.

“Are you well now, darling girl?” Mama asked, holding her at arm's length and studying her carefully.

She wasn’t just asking about her absence today, Aisling knew. She took a breath.

“Not yet, Mama, but I think… I hope I will be. Soon.”

Her mother’s lips trembled, and she sucked in a breath. “Oh. Oh, that’s… that’s good. I’m so happy.”

“Don’t worry, Mama. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“No,” Mama replied, her voice unsteady. “No, you are a woman, and a strong one, my darling. Only, I wish you would remember, you don’t always have to be strong by yourself. I will always stand beside you with pride. No matter what, Aisling. We all would. No matter what.”

Aisling stared back at her mother, understanding what she was saying and doing her best to smile. She had known that, of course. Keeping secrets from them had been the hardest thing to do, but she had never believed her family would abandon her if they knew, or if she created a scandal. It would be far worse than that. They would forgive her, protect her, shield her, and defend her, and she would drag them all down into the mire.

“I will remember, Mama,” Aisling promised, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I promise.”

Her mother nodded and took a deep breath. “Then I shall see you downstairs in ten minutes. Our guests will arrive soon.”

Once her mother had gone, Aisling put on her shoes, pulled on her gloves, and headed for the door. She closed her eyes for a moment before her hand tightened upon the knob and allowed herself a moment to steel her nerves. Then she opened the door to discover Sylvester dithering in the hallway outside.

“Aisling,” he said, his expression one of such concern that the tears she had not wept in front of her mother rose in a wave and she had to swallow hard.

“Sylvester.” She ran at him in a most unladylike fashion and threw her arms about him, holding him tight. “You’re still here,” she whispered, for she had hardly dared believe he would be, that he would stay after everything she had told him.

His arms closed about her, holding her to him. “I won’t let you down,” he promised. “I swore I would help you, Aisling. That you could trust me. I would not say such a thing if I did not mean to honour it.”

She looked up at him, drinking in the sight of his handsome face, and wishing as she had wished so many times these past days, that it had been him she’d met all those years ago, that he had been the one to whom she had given her heart and her body. But even the most powerful magic could not change the past.

“Kiss me.”

She felt the surprise ripple through his body, saw his eyes widen.

“Please,” she begged, feeling uncertain when he hesitated.

His hand cradled her face as he lowered his mouth to hers, and Aisling’s nerves leapt the moment their lips touched. Oh, yes. This. She wanted this, wanted him. Aisling wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer, and Sylvester pulled away with a groan.

“No. Aisling. God, love, you’re temptation enough to fry a man’s wits, but your parents are waiting downstairs for you. I’d best not send you off all rumpled.”

“I want you to rumple me,” she admitted, smoothing a hand over his chest. She slipped it beneath his coat, feeling his heart hammering against his chest.

“Don’t tell me things like that,” he pleaded, his voice husky. “I swore to be your friend, Aisling.”