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He was positively livid. “Is that what this was? You wereusingme for your own enjoyment?”
She lifted a brow. That cool composure had returned with avengeance. How he hated it right now. “No. However, I don’t think this was a one-sided affair, my lord.” She walked over to the dressing table and started to re-pin her hair.
“Remington.”
She blinked at him in the mirror, obviously confused. “What?”
“My name is Remington. As opposed to ‘my lord’?” He snorted. “I think after what we just did, we might at least dispense with the proprieties.”
She hesitated, as if considering it. “Perhaps we could. In private. But those occasions are generally few.”
He wanted to laugh. And he might have if this conversation wasn’t so preposterous. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered, as he started to prowl the room.
She finally stopped and turned to him. “What is so difficult to comprehend? We shared mutual satisfaction. There’s nothing more to it.”
Rem shoved a hand through his hair. He wondered if he was dreaming again, except this time he had been hurled into some sort of nightmare. “We need to talk about this, Isadora.”
She returned her focus to the mirror. “What is there to discuss? It was a tryst. It goes no further from here.”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re speaking as if this was one of your business transactions!”
She angled her head to the side. “Hardly. There wasn’t any sort of monetary profit involved.” She paused. “Unless you’re expecting some sort of payment for services rendered?”
He had to clench his hands at his sides in order to keep from shaking her. “Please tell me that was a poor jest on your part.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want your money, Isadora. I want to know what thiswas.”
She took a deep, steadying breath. “If you are looking for some sort of explanation, other than wishing to offer you comfort and fulfill my own desire, I fear I can’t give you anything more than that.” Her gray eyes were filled with regret as she facedhim. Her hair was once more in a perfect coiffure, her armor back in place.
He crossed his arms. He didn’t want to be cruel, but jealousy over the unknown man who had hurt her compelled him to say, “Are you still in love with him? WithUdell?”
There was a flash of something behind her eyes, but it was quickly shuttered. “I can’t answer that question, because I don’t know. I dared to give my heart, and my body, to someone I cared for, believing he felt the same.” She averted her eyes. “I was wrong. Until now, I promised myself that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.” She exhaled heavily. “I would appreciate it if that knowledge didn’t leave this room. I’ve never told anyone about him. Not even my sisters.”
He snorted. “I’m not the sort of man to kiss and tell, Isadora. You can trust that I will take your secrets to the grave.”
“Thank you.” She started to leave, and he scrambled for something—anything—else to say that would keep her here. With him. There were still so many unanswered questions that he wanted to ask, but he knew that the staid, straitlaced Bevelstroke lady of society had returned. This same woman who had scared off most of the men in London, had allowed her guard to come down long enough to give in to some of her deepest, darkest emotions. Surely that had to mean something, that she might yearn for more from him than just a brief liaison. He saw the passionate woman laid bare.
Now it was time to break down the rest of those outer defenses. After all, she had just confessed something to him that she hadn’t even told her sisters.
He understood that the battle ahead would be fraught with adversity. It wouldn’t be easy to earn the trust that Isadora offered to very few, the love that had been shattered almost beyond repair, but it wouldn’t be impossible.
He might not have much of a chance to win her affection, but he decided it was no longer a hopeless endeavor.
Chapter Fifteen
It had been deuced difficult to act nonchalant around the marquess when Isadora’s heart was threatening to beat out of her chest. If she was honest with herself, she’d wanted to strip off her clothes and tumble back into the sheets with him. But that would be a grave error. She had probably made a big enough mistake by acting as recklessly as she had. At the end of the day, she had no one but herself to blame when it came to harboring any dreadful regrets. At least she’d had the foresight to stop things before they’d gotten out of hand. The last thing she needed was the threat of becoming with child.
After ensuring that the hallway was clear, she hastily made her way to her own chamber. She shut the door and laid her head against the hard wood. Closing her eyes, she slid down the oak until she sat on the floor. Her knees were curled up in front of her and she laid her forehead against her legs. Her emotions were flying all around her, and yet, the tears she desperately needed to shed wouldn’t come. They hadn’t come when she had received word that Udell had married, nor when he had passed on. Even when her own father had died, her eyes remained stubbornly dry.It was as if they had evaporated along with her heartbreak all those years ago. Now, she couldn’t even make herself cry.
Isadora sat there for an indeterminate amount of time, and then she got to her feet and undressed again, but this time she donned her nightdress that had been neatly placed into the chest of drawers when she’d arrived and climbed beneath the sheets.
She decided that there was no point in being a watering pot. She hadn’t gotten this far in life without learning how to shove aside her personal troubles and focus on what really mattered. Forcing her eyes shut, she finally fell asleep. She normally had wondrous dreams of Udell, but tonight, her thoughts were consumed with the marquess.
Nevertheless, she forced herself to push those fantasies aside and awoke with the dawn, the locks from the night before clicking tightly back into place. Her armor had been restored.
She rang the bellpull and when a maid came to her room, Isadora ordered a bath. Once she had performed her toilette and her hair was pulled into an elegant chignon, she left her chamber. She hesitated, considering knocking on Lord Osgood’s door, but although he had been an early riser when they had traveled together, she didn’t know if that was his habit. Thus, she headed downstairs instead.
Lady Grace was the only one present in the overlarge dining hall when she entered. She was dressed as fine as the night before, but her overall appearance was broken by the slight melancholy in her gaze. Isadora offered her a polite greeting and moved over to the sideboard where she prepared a plate. She returned to the table and took a seat next to her.
As a footman came over to pour her some tea, she added cream and sugar. As she was stirring it lightly, the lady asked, “I hope ye slept well?”
