one of the country dances.
‘He gives a very good impression of it, then,’ she replied, just as if she had every right to feel bitter, which she most certainly did not.
‘Chivalrous to a fault, always was. Easing her path into society quiets his conscience, I suppose.’
Then it was true. Edmund had been Lady Tedinton’s lover and evidently he still felt guilty about that and, considering the wretched woman was another man’s wife, so he should. How could he have fallen for that heartless female’s overblown charms? No, there was no need to wonder about that ; Kate only had to flick a look at the sultry beauty doing her best to look faintly amused by her stepdaughter and his lordship to know exactly why a gentleman would find such lazy sensuality irresistible.
Yet Kate thought from the downward curve of her pouting lips that the lady was secretly furious at his defection. Turning the situation over in her mind, Kate shivered as she contemplated the sort of marriage she’d fooled herself she wanted. The very idea of casually following in the footsteps of Lady Tedinton and taking lovers once she’d borne Edmund’s heirs made her want to weep now. Then, imagining how she’d feel if they’d actually wed and she’d found out about the exotic Lady Tedinton afterwards, she felt a strong temptation to go into strong hysterics. So maybe it was as well this was neither the time nor place to consider what her revulsion at the very idea said about her own feelings toward Edmund Worth.
‘Bestholme,’ Mr Cromer remarked obscurely after they’d finished their dance and he was escorting her back to where Eiliane and Miss Transome were sitting.
‘Yes?’ Kate said encouragingly.
‘Fortune hunter,’ he warned with a shake of his head for emphasis.
‘Ah, I thought so,’ she said with a grateful smile.
It set the cap on a hateful evening that Mr Bestholme seemed even more desperate to corner her attention when she refused to take to the dance floor with him. He besieged her with sly comments and overfamiliar touches whenever he could force himself closer to her by using the crush of guests as an excuse and if she didn’t get away from his damp, cruel hands and hungry eyes soon she was going to be sick. Eventually she disgusted herself by taking to her heels and fleeing his far-too-persistent and public pursuit, even resorting to the ladies’ withdrawing room where even he wouldn’t have the gall to follow her.
Sure the man would think nothing of compromising her into marriage if that was the only way he could get his repellent hands on her fortune, she quit her temporary sanctuary and trespassed into the private part of the house to plan a rapid retreat to Derbyshire and the safety of Kit’s fearsome protection, if her determined evasion of Mr Bestholme didn’t persuade the human leech she wasn’t going to be tricked, pressured or just plain forced into marriage.
It seemed a coward’s way out even to her, but it sounded so tempting after the last few weeks of disappointed hopes and mistaken dreams. To be in Derbyshire with spring softening even the starkly beautiful peaks with its lovely bounty, to breathe in good clean air and be able to ride all day without having to be civil to a soul if she didn’t choose to meet one, seemed like heaven just at the moment. And what a relief it would be to escape the nagging feeling that three years ago she’d turned away the one man who could have made leaving her beloved Wychwood for a new life as his wife and mother of his children a wonderful adventure, rather than an impossible sacrifice.
Yet even while she was searching through possible excuses for running away, mentally planning her journey and thinking up a story that would convince Kit and Miranda when she got home that she was perfectly well and happy, just jaded with London and the social Season, she knew she couldn’t do it. There were her detractors to outface and, more important than any of them, there
‘He gives a very good impression of it, then,’ she replied, just as if she had every right to feel bitter, which she most certainly did not.
‘Chivalrous to a fault, always was. Easing her path into society quiets his conscience, I suppose.’
Then it was true. Edmund had been Lady Tedinton’s lover and evidently he still felt guilty about that and, considering the wretched woman was another man’s wife, so he should. How could he have fallen for that heartless female’s overblown charms? No, there was no need to wonder about that ; Kate only had to flick a look at the sultry beauty doing her best to look faintly amused by her stepdaughter and his lordship to know exactly why a gentleman would find such lazy sensuality irresistible.
Yet Kate thought from the downward curve of her pouting lips that the lady was secretly furious at his defection. Turning the situation over in her mind, Kate shivered as she contemplated the sort of marriage she’d fooled herself she wanted. The very idea of casually following in the footsteps of Lady Tedinton and taking lovers once she’d borne Edmund’s heirs made her want to weep now. Then, imagining how she’d feel if they’d actually wed and she’d found out about the exotic Lady Tedinton afterwards, she felt a strong temptation to go into strong hysterics. So maybe it was as well this was neither the time nor place to consider what her revulsion at the very idea said about her own feelings toward Edmund Worth.
‘Bestholme,’ Mr Cromer remarked obscurely after they’d finished their dance and he was escorting her back to where Eiliane and Miss Transome were sitting.
‘Yes?’ Kate said encouragingly.
‘Fortune hunter,’ he warned with a shake of his head for emphasis.
‘Ah, I thought so,’ she said with a grateful smile.
It set the cap on a hateful evening that Mr Bestholme seemed even more desperate to corner her attention when she refused to take to the dance floor with him. He besieged her with sly comments and overfamiliar touches whenever he could force himself closer to her by using the crush of guests as an excuse and if she didn’t get away from his damp, cruel hands and hungry eyes soon she was going to be sick. Eventually she disgusted herself by taking to her heels and fleeing his far-too-persistent and public pursuit, even resorting to the ladies’ withdrawing room where even he wouldn’t have the gall to follow her.
Sure the man would think nothing of compromising her into marriage if that was the only way he could get his repellent hands on her fortune, she quit her temporary sanctuary and trespassed into the private part of the house to plan a rapid retreat to Derbyshire and the safety of Kit’s fearsome protection, if her determined evasion of Mr Bestholme didn’t persuade the human leech she wasn’t going to be tricked, pressured or just plain forced into marriage.
It seemed a coward’s way out even to her, but it sounded so tempting after the last few weeks of disappointed hopes and mistaken dreams. To be in Derbyshire with spring softening even the starkly beautiful peaks with its lovely bounty, to breathe in good clean air and be able to ride all day without having to be civil to a soul if she didn’t choose to meet one, seemed like heaven just at the moment. And what a relief it would be to escape the nagging feeling that three years ago she’d turned away the one man who could have made leaving her beloved Wychwood for a new life as his wife and mother of his children a wonderful adventure, rather than an impossible sacrifice.
Yet even while she was searching through possible excuses for running away, mentally planning her journey and thinking up a story that would convince Kit and Miranda when she got home that she was perfectly well and happy, just jaded with London and the social Season, she knew she couldn’t do it. There were her detractors to outface and, more important than any of them, there
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