A Chance Encounter by Mary Balogh Page B

well-stocked library. From this room she had an answer.
    â€œCome inside, Elizabeth, if you must,” a cool and familiar voice said from the depths of a large leather chair close to a window at the far side of the room.
    â€œI shall not disturb you, my lord,” she replied hastily. “I am looking for someone.”
    â€œWhy would you search for Miss Worthing in a part of the house obviously not being used for entertainment?” Hetherington asked.
    â€œEr, I merely thought she might be lost,” she replied weakly.
    â€œNo, you thought she might be enjoying a secret tryst with her country swain,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “And being the good and straitlaced companion that you are, you must interfere. She could do so much better if she went to London and hung out for a suitable husband, could she not?”
    Elizabeth was angry. “You do not know why I am looking for Miss Worthing, my lord,” she said, “and you do not know me. I have no desire either to explain or to justify myself to you. Excuse me, please. I must find Miss Worthing.”
    â€œRelax,” he said, the sneer still in his voice. “She has been found already by the worthy squire and his wife. She and Dowling were in here with me. We were having a pleasant and quite unexceptionable conversation. It was totally improper, of course, for Miss Worthing to be here with two gentlemen, unchaperoned, but sometimes one forgets such niceties. I suppose the young lady will be whisked home early in deep disgrace.”
    â€œI am sorry for it,” Elizabeth said, “but really her parents actions are no concern of yours or of mine.”
    â€œNo, they are not,” he agreed. “Come inside and shut the infernal door for goodness’ sake, Elizabeth. You look like a bird poised for flight with one hand on the door like that.”
    Elizabeth did not know why she did as he asked. He just seemed different tonight, sitting there in the darkness. He seemed unthreatening. She crossed the room and sat on the padded window seat.
    â€œYou have been drinking,” she remarked.
    He laughed. “And I believe you have become a puritan,” he returned.
    â€œYou used not to drink at public entertainments,” she said.
    â€œAnd you used not to moralize, ma’am,” he retorted.
    â€œI was not moralizing,” she replied, “merely wondering what troubles you.”
    There was silence for a few moments. Then he laughed softly again. “It seems to me that we have found ourselves in this situation once before,” he said.
    â€œYes,” she agreed softly.
    They could find nothing to say for a while. They sat silently, remembering. Elizabeth closed her eyes and wished herself back to that previous occasion when Robert had first kissed her and told her that he loved her. If only they could go back, wipe out the intervening years. If only she could change the way he was, make him become permanently what he had seemed to be then.
    â€œI suppose the young always imagine the good times will last forever,” he said quietly, echoing her thoughts. “It is a rude awakening, is it not, to discover that people change, or that they have other facets to their character that we did not suspect?”
    Elizabeth could feel tears welling in her eyes and a tickling in the back of her throat. She stared down at the dim outline of her hands, but could not trust her voice for a while. At last she got to her feet.
    â€œI should not be here, Robert,” she said, willing her voice to steadiness. “I must go.”
    â€œIt is a long time since I heard my name spoken like that,” he commented. “You always did have a special way of saying it, like a caress.”
    â€œGood night,” she said, and moved past his chair.
    He caught her wrist as she passed and stopped her progress. “You are right,” he said, his words slightly slurred. “I have been drinking. And