A Shameful Secret by Anne Ireland

their last day in Bath. They were to leave early the next day to journey to the estate of Lord and Lady Holbeach, and both she and Charlotte were busy checking off all the little jobs that must be done.
    She had promised to fetch some new slippers that Charlotte had ordered and she wanted to buy a gift for Geraldine’s birthday. She had decided on a spangled scarf that her friend had seen in the window of a shop near the tearooms they sometimes frequented. It was after she had completed her errands and was on her way home that she saw him.
    Her first thought was to avoid him, but Richard Mortimer put himself in her way, forcing her to acknowledge him with a cool nod.
    “Good morning, Miss Weston. Miss Hester Weston, I believe?”
    There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. He had remembered her! Hester’s chest felt tight, and she could barely breathe, but she forced the panic down, counting to ten before she answered. “Sir. I pray you let me pass if you please.”
    “How could I have forgotten you, sweet Hester?” Richard murmured. “You were such a pretty little thing and innocent—so innocent. You have changed, for the better I may say.”
    “I have nothing to say to you, sir. Allow me to walk on, if you please.”
    “Oh, but I have a great deal to say. If you will not hear it, perhaps others may.” Hester’s stomach was churning. He was threatening to expose her shame, which would instantly ruin her in society, but she knew he was not to be trusted. It would be foolish to allow him to blackmail her. She must face him down and damn the consequences.
    “What you choose to say in public is your affair, sir.” Hester raised her head proudly. “I shall not listen to you.”
    She crossed the road to avoid him, leaving him staring after her in frustration so that he called out, “You may regret this, Hester!”
    Hester did not give him the satisfaction of seeing her turn her head. She walked on, outwardly calm, though inwardly her stomach was churning with apprehension. Richard Mortimer could destroy her. A few words from him would mean that she could never again show her face in society, which meant that she would never have another chance of happiness. Even Charlotte would not be able to support her if she were exposed to public scorn.
    She could only hope that she would have left Bath before Richard began to speak of their affair. For she knew that the ladies who had welcomed her to their homes with a smile of approval would turn their heads in disgust whenever they saw her. She would be beyond the pale, her reputation stained beyond repair.
    Fortunately, they had no engagements that evening, as they were to set out early the next day. Hester could only be glad of it. She hoped that no hint of scandal would reach Lady Holbeach before they left Bath.
    Perhaps she would be granted another two weeks of pleasure for she knew that after her shame was known there would be no alternative for her but to retire to obscurity in the country with her mother.
     
    * * * *
     
    Richard had no intention of making good his threat, but she had piqued him, bringing his baser instincts to the fore. Nothing amused him more than the chase, and his hunting instincts had been aroused. He knew that she was being called the Citadel, and the Ice Maiden, and it pleased him to know that he knew better. She had been both warm and passionate in his arms, and, as he looked at her, he found himself remembering how much he had liked and admired her.
    Watching her walk away, back straight, head held proudly, Richard Mortimer’s mood changed, becoming reluctant admiration. There was something rather fine about Hester, and he knew a sharp regret for his past misdeeds. He had begun his pursuit of an innocent young girl out of boredom, having been forced to rusticate through lack of funds. The day he had let his gentle seduction of Hester become something he had never ceased to regret, he had been in a mood