A Fallen Woman (25 page)

He smiled
then. It was rather a wonderful smile and her heart skittered in
her chest like a restive bird. The sensation was both marvelous and
alarming.

‘
Would you think it strange if I said that I feel like I’ve
known you forever?’

‘Yes,’ she said immediately, relaxing even more. She still
did not understand what he had been offering, if indeed it had been
anything (she might have misunderstood), but it was inexpressibly
welcome not to feel the black disappointment that her assumption
had brought. He did not wish to make her his mistress. He respected
her. Better yet, he
liked
her. The knowledge worked to warm her throughout her being,
better than any fire could ever do.

He gave a soft laugh. ‘And yet I do feel as if I have known
you forever. When I first set eyes on you back in London I had a
distinct sense of familiarity. As if the sight of you, standing
ami
dst that
group of females, was utterly inevitable. I was dazzled, of course.
You do dazzle. But there was always something more, for me at
least.’

The words
gave Rachel pause. Had he really felt such a thing? She knew that
her own perceptions had been so colored that she couldn’t possibly
have felt any reciprocal emotion but there was no doubt that she
had enjoyed the brief times they had spent in each other’s company,
even if it had been filtered through the hazy vision of misguided
obsession. She had felt comfortable with him, welcoming him as a
dance partner because with him, at least, she could relax. If Mr.
Salinger had not been on the scene, tainting her perceptions, who
knew what might have happened?

Who knew…?

Some of the
sadness crept back. ‘I made a dreadful mess of things,’ she
admitted quietly.

‘
So you did. But it need not be the end of the
world.’

Rachel
stared at him doubtfully. He was going to remind her that her life
was sure to be filled with interesting things and he was right, of
course. But she was not sure if she wanted this man, of all people,
to remind her of the fact. Somehow, he had come to represent all
the things she could not have, not if she wished to retain what
self-respect she still had.

‘
I know that. Of course I do.’

Lips quirked.
‘I am not suggesting a life of domestic servitude.’

‘
It would never be that,’ she returned, indignant that he could
suggest her family would be anything but loving
kindness.

‘
Not with your family. But I can see you might devolve into the
kind of female that insists on helping others, even if it comes at
a cost to yourself.’

‘
Good heavens,’ she muttered, rather revolted by this
unappealing picture. ‘How hideous.’

He grinned, but
sobered almost immediately. ‘I have a better solution.’

‘You do?’ she replied, unable to imagine what it might be.
There
was
no solution to her past or her future. Lord only knew, she
had had plenty of time trying to think of one. She could do nothing
but continue on as she was. If she’d harbored any niggling doubts
to the contrary, the previous night’s dance had shown her
that.

‘
I do,’ he agreed, then promptly fell silent.

Rachel waited
but no further words came. After a moment, her patience gave way.
She had no real hope that the earl might have actually come up with
an idea that might positively change her course in life but his
sudden reluctance to say more was frustrating.

‘Are you
going to tell me or must I guess?’ she said at last. Everybody had
been watching Liza and George do an impromptu – and inaccurate –
rendition of Robert Southey’s epic poem Joan of Arc, but it must
come to an end at some time and their moment of relative privacy
would end.

She heard a
sigh. ‘I was going to wait until tomorrow to mention it.’

‘
Mention what?’

‘
My intentions towards you.’

This was both alarming and exhilarating. She felt a sense
of dread mixed with hope, although the dread was far more
prevalent. He surely couldn’t mean what those words intended. It
was
impossible
that he could mean what those words intended. She moistened
her lips and fought for courage.

This cannot be what it sounds like
, she reassured herself.
Worsley is not
Richard Thursby, wracked by guilt and misguided affection. He would
not be so foolish as to… as to offer for me. Ruin himself for me.
Nobody could be that mad! Could they?

Whatever his intention
s, she could not go to her bed with the
uncertainty of whatever he intended hanging over her head like some
ridiculous sword of Damocles. She would not sleep a
wink.

She found the
courage to speak again.

‘What,
exactly, are your intentions, my lord?’

It seems
he hesitated for a moment longer. She could almost see him make a
decision, see his metaphorical shrug. ‘Well if you must know…’ he
gave her a sideways glance. ‘Yes, I can see you must. I was going
to wait until I had spoken to you tomorrow before approaching your
father -’

Despite the fact that she had urged him to speak, Rachel
interrupted him immediately, the meaning behind his words suddenly,
shockingly obvious. ‘Speak to Papa? Are you
mad
?’

The last word came out as a horrified squeak. Lydia, who
was closest to them, was distracted enough to glance towards Rachel
in surprise. Realizing that she was in danger of drawing unwelcome
attention to them both, Rachel schooled her face into what she
hoped was attentiveness and fixed her eyes on her sister, who had a
tablecloth around her shoulders and wa
s dancing around with a fire poker in
hand, wielding it as a sword and waving it at George, who appeared
to be playing the part of the entire English army who were defeated
at Orléans. He was, she thought vaguely, just as much of a ham as
Liza.

Worsley was silent for a mome
nt, probably giving her time to recover.
Then he spoke softly. ‘I know it is presumptuous of me to hope that
you might consider my suit so soon after meeting me again. But I
wish to marry you, Rachel, and waiting is so unappealing. I have
waited so long for you already, you see.’

The words made tears sting her eyes and set up such an
intense yearning within her that it was like a physical
pain.
The
mad, marvelous man wished to marry her.
How utterly wondrous. And how
utterly
impossible. It took
her a moment to master her emotion and marshal her dazed and
dazzled thoughts into coherence. As marvelous as it was, it could
never be for exactly the same reasons that she could not rekindle
her friendship with Richard Thursby. Although, she thought, the
earl’s proposition was far more appealing than poor Richard’s
belated urge to make amends. Worsley presented a seductive future,
one that she had thought far beyond her reach. She found him
singularly attractive and knew, with very little encouragement, she
could lose her heart to him.

She could
actually fall in love, get married, have a family of her own.

A life, whole
and complete.

It was nothing more than a dream and she knew she must
crush his foolish ideas before they brought him undone. He might be
the 9
^th
Earl of Worsley but there were some things that were
unforgivable. Marriage to her would certainly destroy his
credibility within Society. Worse than that, when Society turned
against him, as it must, he would come to resent her, to question
his impulsive decision. He would come to see the past was an
insuperable barrier to taking his rightful place among his
peers.

And he must
surely come to blame her for it.

She had no
choice but to stop this nonsense here and now.

‘My lord,’ s
he began carefully, determined not to show how much she
craved the life he was holding out towards her like a golden gift,
‘whilst I am sensible to the honor you pay me, I really cannot
countenance marriage.’

‘
Yes, I rather thought you might say something of the kind,’ he
returned, apparently unabashed by this rejection. ‘You think you’ll
ruin me.’

‘
I do,’ she returned, slightly stung by his cavalier attitude.
He did not seem to fully appreciate the magnitude of the folly he
was contemplating. ‘In fact, I know I shall ruin you.’

‘
You probably will,’ he admitted. ‘I can only assure you that I
am indifferent to the possibility.’

‘Oh yes,
you say that now,’ Rachel said, turning to look at him fully. ‘You
say that now but I am convinced you have not fully understood what
would happen if you did anything so foolish as to make an offer for
me. A man – even one such as you – cannot marry a ruined
female.’

He was
smiling at her a little, his face wearing a look of mingled
tenderness and amusement. The tenderness caught at her heart; the
amusement was exceedingly irksome. ‘I do not believe there is any
legal reason I may not marry you,’ he observed, reaching over to
take her hand in his own. She wanted to withdraw it but it felt
rather nice to have her small hand engulfed by his far larger one
so she let it rest there, just for a moment. ‘I am almost certain
they have not legislated against taking a scandalous woman to
wife.’

‘
You jest,’ she returned, frowning at him. ‘But I am not
prepared to destroy another person’s life.’

He shook
his head at her, thumb rubbing gently over the skin on the back of
the hand he held. ‘I do not doubt you are a stubborn creature,
Rachel. Nor did I ever think that this would be an easy proposal. I
know very well that you are determined to bear the criticism of
others alone. You believe you deserve it but I have come to believe
that you are wrong. What you did was done in ignorance. A scoundrel
took advantage of your innocence and you have been paying the price
ever since. There is no reason to live the rest of your life in the
shadows. I have dared to hope that you have some regard for me. If
I am incorrect, then I will understand your rejection but that is
the only reason I would step back now.’ His eyes were steady,
holding her own. ‘Do you have some regard for me, Rachel? Be honest
now.’

Be honest… For
a moment Rachel considered being anything else but she could not
bring herself to lie to him. She had never quite got the knack of
it anyway and his own candor did not deserve subterfuge.

‘I am not
indifferent,’ she admitted softly. ‘Indeed I am not but that only
convinces me further to reject you. I could not bring dishonor to
you, my lord. I could not bear to have others look at you as if you
were a lesser man. I do not know you as well as I might, but I have
learned one thing over the past few days. You deserve every
happiness, something that marriage to one such as I can never bring
you.’

His hand
tightened around her own. ‘Dearest Rachel,’ he murmured. ‘What I
would not give to kiss you right now.’

This was not the response she had been anticipating but the
anticipatory leap of her body startled her.
What I would not give to be
kissed by you right now
…

‘
Why are you holding Rachel’s hand?’

The words
were cold water to warm thoughts. Startled, Rachel turned her head
to look at Liza who was regarding them both with interest. The
rendition was, apparently, over. Rachel snatched her hand back and
felt the color rise in her cheeks. Glancing around, she saw that
she and Worsley were the subject of more than one pair of
interested eyes. She struggled frantically to find something to say
but, naturally, it was the earl who responded, his tone
conversational.

‘
I am holding Rachel’s hand because I very much want to. Your
acting was impressive, incidentally. I foresee a great future for
you on the stage.’

‘Yes, I
think so too, but Mama says I may not do so,’ Lia returned, casting
her parent a glance of mingled triumph and censure. ‘It would be
vastly entertaining, would it not? I thought gentlemen only held
females’ hands if they were sick or they were courting.’

Trust her
youngest sister to return to the crux of the matter. Rachel
struggled to think of something that would defuse her. ‘I was
feeling faint,’ she began, but the devil seemed to have taken hold
of Worsley.

‘I am
trying to court your sister,’ he explained amiably. ‘It’s not easy,
you know, in such populous surroundings.’

Rachel glanced
at him in horror but Liza was delighted. ‘Oh, do you like my
sister, Sir?’

‘
Very much.’

‘Stop
that!’ Rachel hissed. They were the focus of the entire room. She
very much wished the floor would open wide and carry her
away.

‘
Do you wish to marry her?’

‘Liza!’
Good Lord, the child was a clarion call to
disaster!

Clear
blue eyes turned towards her. ‘It is a perfectly reasonable
question,’ she pointed out in her sweet, ridiculously carrying
voice. Rachel would not have been surprised to learn that Cook, in
her distant kitchen, could hear every word. ‘Gentlemen do not hold
the hands of females they do not care for. Do they?’ Once more, she
focused on Worsley.