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“Sarah, I do not think– “
But Sarah paid no heed. Instead, she pulled her sister in the direction where she herself was headed. Bridget listened to the sound of oncoming carriages, of horses neighing, and she remembered Joseph rescuing her from being trampled by a horse. This time, she wouldn’t need his help. Nor ever again.
She walked uneasily across the cobbled street while Sarah guided her. Strangely, she wished with all her heart that Joseph had disappeared from sight. She did not wish to speak with him, not when they had to pretend that nothing happened between them. Such a conversation would be difficult to bear. She wanted an explanation regarding his sudden disappearance and failure to write, and she could not demand any such thing with Sarah present.
“Your Grace!” She heard Sarah shout, and all her hopes of avoiding him were dashed against the closed doors of reality.
Sarah pulled her a little more firmly, so her steps hastened then finally, they halted again.
“This would be the last place we thought we would see you,” Sarah chirped as Bridget’s mind came under an onslaught of a familiar fragrance she had longed to smell once again.
“Ladies,” Joseph spoke in that same voice, only the tone was different. It was more official, more distant, as if he wished to set up a distance between them that was not to be crossed by either of the two sides. “It is a pleasure to see you.”
Bridget wondered if she should extend her hand to him. They were friends, after all. Were they not? And he was a duke, so it was customary for him to kiss a familiar lady’s hand. It all made perfect sense, yet her mind refused to think rationally. Why should she allow him to touch her again, so freely, any time he wanted to, just because society deemed it of her? She had given her lips to him on the night of the dinner party, and that only seemed to create all this trouble now, of him pulling away and her not knowing where they stood. It was all such a confusing situation. So, she acted exactly how she felt. She kept her hand close to her body, so that he could not take it into his nor bestow a kiss upon it.
No more kisses.
That would certainly be for the best, but everything inside of her urged her not to give that frightful promise.
“Always a pleasure to see you as well,” Bridget spoke instead in an effort to sound as aloof as he him. She would have given two years of life to have her eyes back for only two seconds, just so she could see his reaction to his words. Yet, it was only wishful thinking, and all she had to rely on were her other senses which were now being drowned out by the noises around her.
“We were just out shopping for a new hat,” Sarah explained, “when we saw you across the street. We could not allow you to pass us by without saying hello.”
That was all true. Only, Bridget wished for a more private conversation, and not one with people’s chatter and horses neighing in the background. Her entire body stifled as she stood by her sister. She wondered what made her feel this way. Was it pride? Was it mere ego, the knowledge that perhaps all he wanted of her was that stolen kiss, and now, she was not interesting to him any longer? Those were horrible thoughts to harbor, yet only they could explain his sudden lack of interest in their family and in her, specifically.
She heard him sigh before he replied. It was the same sigh he released when he pressed his lips to her ear then down her throat as his fingers gripped at her breast, squeezing it, caressing it…
No. Stop it.
She could not allow herself to remember any of that, not now, not ever. Those kisses would be thrown into oblivion. All she needed was some time to do it successfully.
“I was here, visiting Mr. Herringbone, my attorney,” he explained. “Some boring, business affairs as usual.”
“Perhaps we could expect you at the house for a visit soon?” Sarah asked, not minding Bridget’s sudden and unexpected pinch that was invisible to Joseph’s eyes.
“I uhm… I am afraid that I am far too busy these days,” he said, clearing his throat. “My railroad shares have taken a sudden and significant plunge, and I must handle the situation urgently, for I am at a risk of a substantial loss. That is exactly why I have been spending my mornings with Mr. Herringbone.”
Those were mornings, but a day consisted of both the morning and the afternoon. If he wished to, he would certainly have enough time in the past several days to pay them a visit, even if it were just a brief one. That would show concern. That would show appreciation and affection. Needless to say, he possessed neither of those traits when it came to her. The truth hurt, but she was glad that she found out before any significant damage was done to her reputation.
Truth be told, Bridget considered herself a better judge of character. His character was nothing like she thought him to be. Perhaps all the rumors were true. Where there was flame, there was certainly fire. In this case, the old adage rang true.
“Well, we certainly would not like to keep you away from your busy schedule,” she told him, much more sternly than she had planned to. Once said, the words sounded cold, almost menacing, but there was no way of taking them back. After she said that, her lush lips compressed as if afraid that she might say something else, something far worse.
“I promise that I shall come visit as soon as my obligations allow it,” he replied as if he were oblivious to her state of being nettled.
“We shall welcome you cordially as always,” Bridget replied, much more amiably this time although she knew that there was no basis to his promise. They were empty words which he had probably spoken many a time before, always with the same outcome in mind. “We bid you a good day, Your Grace.”
She took great efforts at sounding as formal as she could, choosing not to use his name and solely his title. His immediately silence said more than words ever could. She hated the sensation that awoke inside of her, but it was too late to repair anything. They were who they were, and neither of them was willing to alter any part of themselves, nor should they be forced to.
“Good day, Ladies,” he voiced his farewell pleasantly when she pulled Sarah and started walking forward, having no idea whether it was the direction they were initially headed in or not. It did not matter in the slightest. All she wanted was to get as far away from him as she could.
Only, he was inside of her heart and inside of her mind, so that meant that in order to get away from him, she would need to get away from her own self. And such a feat was only possible to those locked away in Bedlam.
“Bridget,” Sarah whispered in a concerned manner, “what was that all about?”
“Please, let us just purchase your hat, and we shall speak of this when we arrive home.”
Bridget never wished to speak of this again, but she knew that in order to forget all about him, she would need to reveal her secret to someone, someone who would never tell another living soul. There was only one person in the whole world she trusted to such an extent.
