The Viscount Who Seduced Her (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 15

  She knew that lying in bed, ruminating about past wrongs, was the purview of well-born ladies with no work to do. Maids did not have that luxury, especially when there was cleaning and mending to do, but Betsey could not bring herself to begin work at sunrise today. She resolved to be more industrious tomorrow, as tears slid down her cheeks into her pillow this morning.

  Luckily, when Lady Paulina finally awoke and called for her, her tears had dried, and she was able to dress quickly.

  “Good morning, My Lady,” Betsey said, with a curtsey, as she entered her mistress’s bedroom.

  “Good morning, Betsey,” Lady Paulina said. She looked well rested, but subdued.

  Betsey knew that she ought to ask about the masquerade ball, for the sake of appearing normal. As far as Lady Paulina knew, Betsey had not been there, and it had been all they had talked about for the past several days.

  She could not muster much enthusiasm, but finally said, “How was the masquerade ball, My Lady?”

  “It went very well,” Lady Paulina said, her tone neutral.

  Betsey was surprised by her lack of enthusiasm, and even more so that her mistress did not elaborate on the details of the event. She had expected Lady Paulina to tell her about everyone’s costumes, the food, the decorations, and of course her dance with her true love.

  This expectation was based on a year’s worth of experience. Lady Paulina always told Betsey about the social events she had attended, and they had many long conversations about an acquaintance’s gown, or who had danced with whom. It had also been a selfish hope—if Lady Paulina had talked at length, then Betsey would not have had to say much of anything, which suited her mood this morning.

  “I am glad to hear that, My Lady,” Betsey said, hoping to encourage more conversation. “Were you able to dance with—?”

  “Yes,” Lady Paulina replied, quickly.

  “I see, and how was that?”

  “Oh Betsey,” Lady Paulina said, sighing now, while Betsey helped her into her gown. “It was wonderful, of course! But, I thought that sharing one last dance would make me happier, when in actual fact, it has only made me long even more for the thing that I know I cannot have! I was a fool to think that a few moments of bliss could make up for a lifetime of its absence.”

  Betsey’s eyes had begun to sting as Lady Paulina talked. She might have spoken the words herself, about her dance with the Viscount of Somerwich. They had both been naïve, and in the end they had caused themselves pain instead of happiness.

  “I am sorry, My Lady,” Betsey said quietly, fighting to keep her voice even.

  “Thank you, Betsey,” Lady Paulina said with a sniff. “I realized, as soon as the dance ended, that it was a mistake. I might have made the best of the evening still, but…”

  “But, what, My Lady?”

  “Well, I am not entirely sure what happened,” Lady Paulina said, sounding a bit confused.

  “What do you mean?” Betsey was intrigued now.

  “Well, I realized that, since I must marry the Viscount of Somerwich, I ought to try to find some joy in dancing with him, even if he is not the love of my life.”

  “And did you find some joy in it?” Betsey asked, finishing the laces on Lady Paulina’s gown.

  “That’s just the thing!” Lady Paulina said, sitting down at her vanity so that Betsey could brush her hair. “I danced with the Viscount early in the evening, and our conversation was amiable and pleasant. There is no passion there, but I thought that at least we might enjoy one another’s company.”

  “Well, that is something,” Betsey said, keeping her eyes focused on Lady Paulina’s hair, so that their eyes would not meet in the mirror.

  “Yes, I suppose that it is,” Lady Paulina said, sounding a bit sad now. “I had resolved to build on that, thinking that perhaps we could grow to love each other in time. But when we danced again, at the end of the masquerade ball, there was not warmth or friendliness at all.”

  “Was he unkind to you?” Betsey asked, finding this hard to believe.

  “Not at all. He was perfectly polite, but it was as though his mind was somewhere else entirely. I don’t think he heard half of the things that I said to him, and he spoke barely a word to me. I cannot imagine what I might have done to offend him between the first dance and the last.”

  Betsey felt a pang of guilt at this. She was sure that Lady Paulina had done nothing to offend the Viscount. Betsey was the one who had distracted him with a dance and an ill-advised secret kiss in the garden. She felt ashamed of herself for causing her mistress such distress.

  “I am sorry, My Lady,” Betsey said, not knowing what else she could say to such a turn of events.

  “Perhaps he was upset with me for the way that I have treated him in the past,” Lady Paulina said, sadly.

  “What do you mean, My Lady?” Betsey asked, feeling confused. “You have always been perfectly polite to the Viscount, have you not?”

  “I have,” Lady Paulina admitted. “But he was perfectly polite to me as well, just disinterested. In truth, I think disinterest might be worse than outright hostility.”

  Betsey very much doubted that Lady Paulina would have preferred outright hostility, but decided it would be best to keep this to herself. She merely nodded at this statement.

  “I cannot imagine a life spent with someone who finds me to be of no interest or consequence at all. But, that is exactly how I have treated the Viscount up until yesterday.”

  Betsey was beginning to understand what her mistress was saying. Her words had the ring of truth to them—she had treated the Viscount with indifference for most of their time together. Betsey supposed that it was possible that the Viscount had been offended by this, but it did not explain why his manner had changed so suddenly from the beginning of the evening to the end. Only I can explain that, but if I do, it will not make her any happier and I will lose my position.

  “I see,” Betsey replied, keeping her tone carefully neutral.

  “Do you think it might be possible to change his mind? To make him show at least some friendly feeling toward me before the wedding?” Lady Paulina asked.

  “Oh!” Betsey said, surprised to be asked this so directly. She felt sure that Lady Paulina could charm anyone if she really put her mind to it, and she did not believe that the Viscount would hold a grudge, even if he was offended by her previous behavior.

  “Yes, My Lady, I am quite sure that you can develop a friendship with him, and perhaps even loving feelings in time.”

  “Perhaps,” Lady Paulina said. She didn’t sound entirely certain of this, but she did seem considerably less anxious than she had been. Her hair arranged, she stood up from her vanity and turned to face Betsey, smiling.

  “You are a true friend, Betsey,” Lady Paulina said, looking at her fondly.

  Betsey felt another pang of guilt at these words. She wanted to be a true friend to her mistress, but she had betrayed her trust, and she did not dare clear her conscience by confessing.

  “Thank you, My Lady,” she said, color rising in her cheeks. “I am very lucky to have such a kind mistress.”

  Chapter 18

  Michael knew that he must call upon Lady Paulina soon. He had been thinking about the Ice Queen for two days now and was no closer to discerning her true identity. Not only that, but he had come up with no ideas of how he might even begin to search for her.

  The more that he thought about her, the more he began to worry that she might have been a figment of his imagination. He knew most of the aristocratic families in the area—he should have been able to recognize her as someone he had at least met briefly. But in spite of the fact that she had felt familiar, he knew that she was not a member of any of the families he could think of.

  In addition to that, she had disappeared so suddenly after their walk in the garden, never to be seen again. It was almost as though he had been the only person there who could see her. Michael did not believe in ghosts or spirits, but if he had, he might have thoug
ht her one.

  As he came to realize all of this, he chastised himself for being such a fool. How can I allow a complete stranger, one who might be nothing more than a figment of my imagination to dictate my future—my family’s future? He knew that he must marry Lady Paulina. He did not particularly care about expanding his family’s wealth and lands, but he did care about his mother and he knew that marrying Lady Paulina would make her happy.

  So, Michael dressed with the help of his valet the following morning and asked him to call the family’s carriage for him.

  “Right away, My Lord,” Jones said, dutifully. “Where shall I tell them you are going?”

  “To Cublertone Manor, to visit Lady Paulina.”

  “Ah!” Jones said, grinning at Michael conspiratorially. “I take it that the masquerade ball went well, then?”

  “Yes, quite well.”

  “Excellent, My Lord,” Jones said, still grinning at Michael.

  “Right,” Michael said. “Please tell the coachmen that I wish to leave after breakfast, in an hour.”

  “Oh yes, of course, My Lord!” Jones said with a wink, before scurrying out of Michael’s room.

  Once Jones had left, Michael took a moment to examine his reflection in the mirror. He saw nothing there for Lady Paulina to dislike, and hoped that their meeting today might be more successful than his previous visits.

  At the beginning of the masquerade ball, Michael had discovered that she shared his love of the ancient Greeks. Now he mentally reviewed the list of topics that he had developed in hopes of maintaining a constant flow of conversation when next they met.

  He was most interested in philosophy, but Michael had also reviewed his knowledge of mythology and art, in case Lady Paulina preferred those subjects. He knew that he had not been warm towards her during their last dance, and he hoped now to recapture some of the friendliness he had felt at the beginning of the ball.

  When he arrived downstairs, Michael felt cautiously optimistic about his upcoming visit to Cublertone. He ate breakfast with his parents, which was a mostly silent affair. His father read the newspaper and did not look up to acknowledge the arrival of his son. The Countess seemed reluctant to speak much, as the Earl had been in a foul mood since yelling at Michael the morning after the masquerade ball.

  Taking his cue from his parents, Michael said little as he ate sausage and toast, and sipped his tea. However, he knew that he could not hide the fact that he planned to call on Lady Paulina, and therefore announced this intention.

  “Oh Michael,” his mother said, sounding delighted. “That is wonderful news!”

  “There is no need to overreact!” the Earl barked at her.

  “Yes, of course,” she said quietly. “I only meant to say that I am glad that Michael will visit Lady Paulina again.”

  “Of course he will visit Lady Paulina!” the Earl said firmly. “He will marry Lady Paulina! He can hardly do that without visiting her first.”

  Michael did not groan out loud, but it was a close thing. He lamented his father’s ability to turn even what he wanted to hear into bad news. And he felt frustrated, once again, by his mother’s attempts to assuage him which only made him angrier.

  “Yes, Father,” he said calmly. “Of course you are right, and that is why I will call upon her today.”

  “Good,” the Earl said curtly. “No doubt you will be tempted to say something foolish or offensive, so take care not to make a mess of the situation.”

  Michael simply stared at his father when he said this. Not only was it unkind, but Michael knew it to be untrue. He had been trained in social courtesies since before he could remember, and most people seemed to find him charming. Even Lady Paulina, who seemed mostly disinterested, had responded to his charm at the beginning of the masquerade ball.

  “I shall do my best, Father,” Michael said, his voice cold. He stood up from the table. “I am no longer hungry. Good day.”

  Michael walked out of the dining room and into the entry hall. He did not know why he allowed his father’s words to hurt him so much. He had been listening to the same criticisms for his entire life, and thought that he ought to be used to them by now, but somehow, they always managed to sting.

  When it was finally time to leave, Michael walked out to the front yard to meet the carriage. The ground was wet from a drizzle of rain that had just ended, but the sky was clear and bright now. His father’s words at breakfast had dampened his mood somewhat, but the fresh air brightened it again.

  Riding in the back of the carriage, Michael began to wish that he had ridden instead. He knew that it would not have been practical, especially as it looked likely to start raining again at any moment, but riding always helped him to clear his mind.

  As it was, he spent half an hour in the back of the carriage by himself, thinking about the Ice Queen. He tried to think about Lady Paulina, and the future they would share, or even the mistakes he had made with her and how he might correct them. However, not matter how much he tried to keep them at bay, thoughts of the Ice Queen always returned to him.

  He remembered the beautiful golden-brown color of her eyes, like honey, and the perfect cupid’s bow of her mouth. He relived in his mind the moment when their lips had touched in the garden. He imagined what might have happened if she had not run away from him, and was glad that no one was present to see his face flush at the thought of kissing every inch of her bare skin.

  As the carriage approached Cublertone Manor, Michael silently reprimanded himself. I am here to see Lady Paulina—a beautiful, well-born, well-mannered lady, who will soon be my wife. Michael took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves before alighting from the carriage.

  He felt an unfamiliar pang of nervousness as he approached the front door of the house, but quickly pushed it down before ringing the bell. A moment later the door was opened by the butler, who invited Michael to sit in the drawing room, while he checked to see if Lady Paulina was receiving guests.

  Michael sat in a comfortable leather chair and thought again about the topics of conversation he had prepared. He was feeling more optimistic about his visit now. The butler soon returned to tell him that Lady Paulina would meet him in the drawing room in a few minutes, and to offer him some tea, which he accepted.

  The butler returned with the tea tray before Lady Paulina arrived, and poured for Michael.

  “Thank you very much,” Michael said. In spite of his best efforts, he was thinking about the Ice Queen’s statements about the servants of the house and all of the work they had done to prepare for the masquerade ball. Of course, Michael had always known, in theory, that servants worked hard, but she had made him conscious of it in a new way, and he was eager to show his appreciation.

  “You are quite welcome, My Lord,” the butler said, before leaving the drawing room. Michael sipped his tea, but he only had to wait another minute before Lady Paulina arrived. He stood up to greet her with a bow when she entered the drawing room.

  “Lady Paulina,” he said, making sure to give her his most winning smile. “It is a pleasure to see you again!”

  “Thank you, My Lord,” Lady Paulina replied, with a smile of her own. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Lady Paulina curtsied gracefully before sitting down across from him. Her shiny gold hair was arranged prettily, with clusters of curls at each temple, and her pale pink gown complimented her skin tone. Michael thought that she looked like a portrait of the ideal English Lady.

  Her chaperone had receded to a corner of the room immediately upon entering and was focused on her sewing. Michael might not have noticed her at all, except that the light from the window shone prettily on her hair.

  The butler poured tea for Michael and Lady Paulina, before leaving the drawing room. Michael was pleased to see that Lady Paulina seemed happy to see him, and interested in having a conversation with him.

  Here was the Lady Paulina with whom he had danced at the start of the masquerade ball, and not the Lady Paulina who had seemed bo
red by him during their previous visits. Perhaps if he could be certain that this was the real Lady Paulina, they could grow to love one another in time.

  “How did you decide on your costume for the masquerade ball, My Lady?” Michael asked, hoping to steer the conversation to a topic of mutual interest.

  “Well, as you know, I am interested in Greek mythology,” Lady Paulina began, “So it seemed a natural choice to dress as a member of the Pantheon.”

  “Of course,” Michael said. “And how did you decide on Aphrodite?”

  “Who better to attend a ball than the Goddess of Love and Beauty?” Lady Paulina laughed prettily at this, and Michael laughed along with her.

  “Well, I suppose I cannot possibly argue with that!” he said still chuckling.

  “And I have always admired Aphrodite,” Lady Paulina continued, sounding more serious now. “Her story is scandalous—all of Greek mythology is, of course—but she managed to find her own happiness, in spite of Zeus’s attempts to control her. She was able to make the most of a bad situation.”