Page 55 of The New Earl’s Convenient Wife

That didn’t make this meeting any easier.

‘Of course not,’ he replied, only at the last moment refraining from the idiocy of taking her hand.

She gave him a tremulous smile. ‘I’m relieved to hear it. Very relieved! And I hope, now that you are in London, we might…see more of each other.’

Thankfully, for Rafe had no idea how to politely respond to that, a gentleman approached them eagerly. ‘Lady Altorn! Fortner told me you were here! What a lucky chance! You must come dance a waltz with me. You did promise me one, you know, at the Manningtons’ ball last week. You’ll release her, won’t you, Thornthwaite? Not fair to monopolize the most beautiful woman at the ball.’

He murmured assent, which was superfluous, as the gentleman—Randolph, he vaguely recalled—had already claimed the lady’s hand to urge her to her feet.

‘We shall talk again later, I hope,’ Lady Altorn said, giving him as she left on Randolph’s arm another of the sweet smiles he remembered with such bittersweet pain.

Conflicting thoughts ricocheting about his head like a rack of billiard balls just broken by the cue, Rafe stood up as well. His pulse still unsteady, he stumbled away, unsure what to do next. Unsure what to think or feel.

He was sure he couldn’t make idle social chat or become embroiled in any Parliamentary discussions. Turning from the ballroom, he walked swiftly away, relieved when his instincts proved correct and he found the library, thankfully unoccupied.

He stood by the window overlooking the garden, trying to settle his pulse and calm the thoughts still whirling about in his head.

Well, he’d not done such a fine job of finessing that encounter, he thought acidly. Despite believing he’d been prepared, he’d been almost paralyzed by a violent maelstrom of emotions.

It was just that…to survive, he’d put her firmly out of his heart and mind, any thought of her entombed behind a door he’d slammed shut and intended never to walk through again. Until she spotted him across the ballroom and hurried over, wrenching it open.

He felt…raw, as if some essential part of him had been ripped apart.

He had put her out of his heart, hadn’t he?

He’d buried the feelings, certainly. But in the aftermath of the shock of seeing her, he felt…unsettled, the long-suppressed hurt, anger and pain sending him so off balance he didn’t know what he felt.

Having been shaken to the core, it would be impossible to act naturally with Juliana tonight, to tease her and whisper naughty words and make love to her. He’d have to plead fatigue or find some excuse to spend the night on his own—and work hard to make it believable.

Not for the world would he want to hurt her.

He spent another half an hour hidden away, trying to regather his composure so he might return to the ballroom and act normally enough that she wouldn’t suspect something was wrong.

Once he’d regathered himself enough to mention the meeting, he’d have to be able to discuss his former love casually, as someone from his distant past who no longer affected him.

He was nowhere close to being able to do that tonight. Not with his far-too-perspicacious wife.

At length, he felt he had himself well enough under control to return to the ballroom. Pacing in, he scanned it quickly, relieved to see that it appeared Lady Altorn was no longer in attendance.

Had she come purposefully only to see him?

Thrusting out of mind the implications of that possibility, he looked around for Juliana. As he prepared to seek her out, he only then realized that he would probably need some excuse to explain his long absence.

He hadn’t yet figured out what to say when Claire and Hart discovered him. ‘There you are at last,’ Claire said. ‘Where did you disappear to?’

‘Winston and Claiburn asked some probing questions about one of the bills under consideration. As they might come to a vote soon, I slipped off to the library to think about them. Too noisy to think here.’

Hart raised his eyebrows, but didn’t challenge what he knew his friend probably thought a dubious excuse. Fortunately, Claire didn’t know enough about the current events in Parliament to be equally skeptical.

‘Where is Juliana? Has some impetuous swain whisked her away to the refreshment room?’ he asked before Claire could make further uncomfortable inquiries.

‘Would serve you right if one had,’ she replied tartly. ‘I’d been looking for you. Juliana was feeling ill. I tried to get her to wait until I located you, but she felt she must leave at once.’

Rafe felt a pang of alarm. ‘Nothing serious, I hope!’

‘Probably nothing out of the usual. I offered to accompany her home, but the most she would allow was for Hart to find her a hackney.’

‘I’ll leave at once,’ Rafe said, worried and wondering. Juliana was never ill. From childhood, she’d been able to tromp the woods and fields in all weathers, never seeming to contract so much as a cold.