Page 3 of Heart of Decadence

The flicker of something deep within him burst back into life. “Not exactly?”

“My parents are arranging the marriage. I’ve only just met Mr. Burke this evening at dinner. We’re supposed to take the opportunity of the ball to become better acquainted.” Even the faintness of the moonlight couldn’t disguise her distaste at the idea.

“And I interrupted his attempt to do so?” Not as bad as he’d feared, but still not behavior becoming a gentleman. “I’m sorry if I’ve impeded his suit in any way.”

“Do not be, my lord.” Her hand on his wrist startled him, both in its presence there and the warmth it generated within him. “As I’ve said, the match was brought about by my parents.” The liquid blue of her eyes flashed like quicksilver. “I’m submitting to it because, as you well know, no one else has been willing to have me. Not one in ten years.”

“Why not?”

She jerked her head back as though he’d slapped her. “What do you mean? You must know the story. Everyone in the ton does.”

“Except, apparently, me. My father wrote to me in Italy that you’d become betrothed to Lord Carrington. I assumed you married him. I didn’t find out until just now that you did not.” That piece of information still hadn’t registered. “Can you tell me why you didn’t marry him?”

“He died.”

Nathan flinched at the unfeeling tone of her voice. But of course, her grief must be long in the past.

Her gaze on his face didn’t falter.

“May I extend my very belated condolences on his loss?”

“Thank you.” With a choked sigh, she hurried down the veranda steps out into the garden, to a bench where she sat, her back almost to him.

He followed, not too closely to give her time to compose herself. “You must have loved him very much.”

“So all the gossips in Society say, at least.”

He cocked his head. “I beg your pardon?”

Shaking her head, she straightened, the slight movement giving her a regal stance. “Never mind, my lord. It’s old news, in any case. And I do thank you for your concern.” She took a breath then hesitantly stole a glance at him. “I confess I did wonder what had happened to you. After our last encounter in the garden.”

“Here in this garden, as I recall.” Nathan glanced over at a cherry tree just coming into bud. “Under that very tree, if I remember correctly.”

“You do.”

The admission sent a thrill through him, though he couldn’t fathom the reason. “As to what happened to me, almost the next day I was sent off on my Grand Tour, although with the war raging with France at that time, the tour was not quite as grand as it had been in times past. Still, I was gone for two years, mostly in Italy, although I spent some time in Switzerland, Prussia, and Greece.”

“It must’ve been a marvelous experience.” Her voice, carefully neutral, made him suddenly aware how his disappearance might have seemed to her.

“I would’ve written to you, but I truly had no time before I left for Portsmouth. Then I was on a ship bound for Italy.” Why did he feel the need to explain? He hadn’t thought of that encounter with Miss Burrowes for years, although he had thought about her quite a lot on board the ship. His animosity toward his father for sending him off so quickly—he’d not been allowed to tell her goodbye, even though he’d begged to do so—had lasted for some time as well.

“I understand. I did not pine over it, although I did wonder why you’d sent no word.” She shrugged. “Not too long after you left, I was introduced to Lord Carrington, and we came to an understanding quite quickly.”

A flicker of jealousy ignited in Nathan’s chest. He squelched it almost as soon as it appeared. What good to be jealous of a dead man? And why, for God’s sake, be envious at all of a woman he’d not seen for over a decade? Still, the thought of Carrington with her was distasteful, to say the least. He rose. “Perhaps we’ve stayed away too long. I would not wish to ruin your reputation, Miss Burrowes, when I was trying to save it.”

At that she laughed until she wept, sitting on the bench with her eyes streaming.

Without a word, he handed her his handkerchief and she mopped the tears that continued to flood her face. “I am pleased I could lighten your mood, Miss Burrowes.”

She hiccoughed and sniggered then, slowly, the tide turned and she sobered. “I do beg your pardon, my lord, for that display. But what you said…” She sputtered off again then composed herself. “I am afraid I couldn’t help myself.” Lifting the sodden handkerchief, she waved it at him. “I will have this laundered and returned to you on the morrow.”

“Why not return it to me in person?” Nathan didn’t know where that question had come from. He’d had no intention of suggesting they meet again. Except that, now that he thought about it, he did wish to see her. “Allow me to take you for a carriage ride tomorrow afternoon.”

That seemed to stun her, for she sat for several moments, pulling at the soaked handkerchief so hard he feared it would tear. “I am sorry, Lord Ainsley, but I cannot. My parents are in negotiations with Mr. Burke. I doubt they would approve such an outing.” She rose and sighed. “Please escort me to my mother, my lord. I am certain she wonders where I am.”

“Of course, Miss Burrowes.” He offered his arm, almost fearing she wouldn’t take it.

After hesitating, she finally rested her hand lightly on it and they made their way back inside Lady Hamilton’s townhouse. The heat was suffocating after the cool outdoors and seemed to get worse as they silently wound their way toward the ballroom amidst the din of a ball in full swing. Miss Burrowes seemed to shrink toward him, now gripping his arm as though it were a lifeline. Did she fear crowds so much? She’d said she’d not been in company much these ten years, though he still wasn’t certain why. When they arrived at the ballroom, awash in light, the dancers swirling around the floor like huge, colorful flowers, he paused, unsure for whom he was looking. “Where is your mother, Miss Burrowes? I cannot recall—”