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“Does their deference amuse you?” Satterfield asked, looking at him askance. He shook his head. “Bah, I know it doesn’t.”
No, it did not. It was, however, relieving, for it meant they cut him a wide berth. He had no patience for such ninnyhammer antics. When he’d shed his own dissolute behavior, he’d quite lost the ability to tolerate it from anyone else. And Society knew it.
“They’re mostly harmless,” Satterfield said.
“They are not, but I shan’t debate it with you.” Titus had seen firsthand the harm of such careless conduct, but he wouldn’t disclose that to Satterfield. Not when he hadn’t ever disclosed it to anyone. He finished his whisky and set the glass on a table next to his chair. “I believe I’m finished for tonight. Do stay as long as you like.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Nowhere you’d care to accompany me.” Titus was on his way to a soiree outside the realm of Polite Society where he would meet several courtesans. He typically spent his first weeks back in London searching for a mistress to keep for the Season. It could be a tedious endeavor, but necessary in order to find the right woman who would warm his bed without making demands, all while behaving in the most discreet manner possible. This was paramount to him. His business was no one’s but his own.
“Just so,” Satterfield said. “See you tomorrow, then.”
Titus left the room, closing the door as he went into the now empty corridor. He made his way downstairs, and the men seated in the subscription room fell silent, save one who loudly whispered, “The Forbidden Duke?”
Titus didn’t turn his head to see who’d uttered his nickname. He didn’t turn his head to acknowledge anyone. He stared straight ahead and left the club, never wondering nor caring what anyone thought of him.
Chapter Two
Afortnight after sending an inquiry to a London agency, Nora walked into the drawing room of Lady Satterfield’s town house on Mount Street for her first interview as a lady’s companion. She’d arrived via post chaise late yesterday.
Nora took in the magnificence of the drawing room with its tall windows cloaked with gold curtains overlooking the street, a myriad of landscape paintings that gave the space a welcome feeling of the outdoors, as well as gilt-edged mirrors that lent an expansive air to the already large chamber, and three ornate chandeliers, whose crystal sparkled and winked in the afternoon light.
It was as elegant as Cousin Frederick’s had been, yet somehow more comfortable. Or maybe that was just Nora’s maturity showing, that she wasn’t intimidated by a fancy London house. She wasn’t as green as she’d once been.
A moment later, Lady Satterfield entered the drawing room. She was tall, with dark hair and a regal bearing, but also a warm smile that lent her approachability. Nora immediately relaxed.
“Good day, Miss Lockhart. I’m so pleased you could meet with me today. Please, sit.” Lady Satterfield gestured toward a settee, while she sank into an armed chair covered with blue silk.
Nora perched on the edge. “Thank you, my lady. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“My butler is bringing tea in a moment. Do you know how to pour?”
Nora nodded. “I do, my lady.”
“Excellent. I thought as much, since you’ve been out in Society.”
The countess made the statement without inflection, making it impossible for Nora to infer what her opinion might be of Nora’s past. And she didn’t think for a moment that the agency hadn’t informed Lady Satterfield of Nora’s indiscretions. Nora had been honest and forthright when she’d inquired with them, and they’d been just as direct in their response, telling her that placement might be difficult.
Yet, here she was with an interview.
She rushed to answer Lady Satterfield, even though she hadn’t asked a direct question. “Yes, I was out in Society for two Seasons.” Not quite, but close enough.
“The agency informed me of your past experience.”
Again, Nora couldn’t tell what Lady Satterfield thought of any of it, but Lady Satterfield’s invitation to today’s appointment had to mean that she wasn’t bothered. Still, she’d feel better to have the issue out in the open. “You’re aware of the circumstances under which I left London?”
Lady Satterfield looked at her with…kindness? Yes, her eyes crinkled at the edges and her lips curved into a compassionate smile. “I am, and all I can say is that I’m sorry things worked out that way for you. We’ve all done foolish things in our youth, but most are fortunate to keep them private. Society is most unforgiving when it comes to women. Never mind that the man is at least equally accountable, or in some cases more so. It was Lord Haywood?”
An image of the exceedingly handsome Haywood, an Untouchable, rose in her mind. With his dazzling smile, blond, wavy hair, and golden tongue, he’d quite charmed her nine years ago. “Yes.” She coughed softly to clear her suddenly cobwebbed throat. “I take full responsibility for my actions.”
Lady Satterfield cocked her head to the side. “I admire your maturity. Did you hope to marry him?”
“Foolishly, yes.” Nora didn’t bother trying to hide the self-derision in her tone. “When he pledged his undying love and said he planned to make me his wife, I believed him. At the time, an assignation in the library with my future betrothed seemed a touch risky, but I thought my future was secure.”
How wrong she’d been. They’d been caught in an embrace in that library—during a ball—and the occasion had been theon ditof the Season. Cousin Frederick had packed Nora back to the country two days later. Haywood, meanwhile, had only been obliged to leave town for the Season; his reputation had been salvageable. He’d even gone on to marry a few years later. Nora, on the other hand, had been utterly ruined. All over a kiss, and not a particularly good one at that.
Lady Satterfield shook her head and pursed her lips. “Men can be such clods.”
