The Viscount Who Seduced Her (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 16

  “I had never thought of it that way,” Michael said, intrigued by this assessment. Perhaps Lady Paulina is more interesting, and less demure, than she seems. “Do you see something of Aphrodite in yourself, My Lady?”

  Lady Paulina blushed slightly at this, and Michael cursed himself silently. His question had been too intimate, and too direct. He only meant to ask more about why Lady Paulina admired Aphrodite, but the question could be interpreted differently. Aphrodite was the Goddess of procreation, and had many lovers, both divine and human.

  “I am sorry, My Lady, I did not mean to imply that you…” he began, unsure of what he could even say next that would not embarrass her further. “That you would ever behave in any way that might be seen as inappropriate. I only meant, I just wanted to know more of your thoughts.”

  “That’s quite all right, My Lord,” Lady Paulina said, smiling kindly. “I am happy to talk more about my thoughts on Aphrodite. And I know that it is quite unusual to say that I admire her.”

  They both laughed again, and Michael felt that the meeting might be a success, even after his blunder.

  “Aphrodite is a product of the world in which she lived,” Lady Paulina continued. “Her behavior is shocking to us now, but at the time it was less so, and in fact it made sense. She may have been a goddess, but Aphrodite was still limited by her sex and her station, just as we all are. She managed to be powerful in spite of those limitations.”

  “That is true, My Lady,” Michael replied. “And I had not thought about it in that way before. I wonder what you make of Zeus’s behavior towards her, as the one placing limits upon her and forcing her into an unwanted marriage?”

  Lady Paulina looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well,” she said. “If you consider things only from Aphrodite’s position, I suppose he could be seen as a villain, and I do think that he treated her unfairly, but isn’t that what all powerful men do?”

  “I should hope not!” Michael said, wondering whether she would consider him a powerful gentleman, destined to treat his inferiors unfairly.

  “No,” Lady Paulina said. “I suppose not all powerful men do, but certainly most gentlemen.”

  “Meaning no offense, My Lord! I only meant, for example, that most aristocrats make decisions about who their daughters should marry for their own benefit more than for the benefit of their daughters,” Lady Paulina quickly added.

  “Oh,” Michael said unsure of what to say to this. He could hardly deny that she was correct in this assessment, but he did not like to think of their future marriage as benefiting her father more than her.

  “It is not a criticism, My Lord,” Lady Paulina said. “It is merely an observation about human nature. And many of those marriages of convenience also benefit the daughters.”

  “I certainly hope that they do,” Michael said, hoping he was adequately conveying his feelings. “I understand that this is merely the way that things are done, but I should hate to think that young ladies are merely treated as chess pieces by their fathers.”

  “That is just it, My Lord,” Lady Paulina said. “It is impossible to know another person’s motivations, even though we can speculate. Fathers love their daughters, even if they must be practical, perhaps they have their daughters’ best interests in mind when making those marriages of convenience, and perhaps not, but either way, the result is the same.”

  “I suppose that is true,” Michael said, mulling this over, not quite sure what to make of it.

  Lady Paulina eventually steered the conversation to other elements of Greek Mythology. Michael enjoyed the conversation and was interested to hear Lady Paulina’s opinions on some of the members of the Pantheon, which were often unconventional. Still, he could not stop thinking about her earlier point. Does she truly believe that a person’s intentions do not matter, and only the resulting actions?

  Michael almost wished that Lady Paulina had been born Lord Paul. If she had been a gentleman, she could have attended school, and they might have been friends, debating philosophy’s great questions. He felt sure that they would have enjoyed those conversations, and wondered if those feelings exist between a gentleman and a lady. If they could, might they lead to a good marriage?

  After discussing these topics for over two hours, Michael felt sure that he was not in love with Lady Paulina, but also that he could make a happy enough life with her. He would propose marriage at their next visit, and they would spend their lives together in friendship, if not in love.

  When the time came for Michael to leave, he bid Lady Paulina good day, and stood up from the chair. As he did so, he bumped into the small table in front of him, knocking over the tea things.

  Lady Paulina gasped, “Are you all right, My Lord? Have you burned yourself?”

  “No, My Lady, I have not burned myself, I assure you I am quite all right!” he said. “Merely embarrassed by my own clumsiness. I do apologize for the mess.”

  He had not noticed her move, but when he looked down, he saw that Lady Paulina’s chaperone had come over and was kneeling on the floor, picking up shards of broken china. Michael knew that it was improper, but knelt down alongside her to help. He had broken the teacups, he ought to take on this responsibility.

  “It is quite all right, My Lord,” the maid said, continuing to clean.

  Michael felt his breath catch in his chest. Can it possibly be true? He turned to look at the maid who was bent down, looking at the floor. It seemed to Michael that she was deliberately avoiding his eye. She could not do this forever, though, and eventually glanced in his direction.

  Now the breath not only caught in his chest, but Michael’s heart skipped a beat. In the space of a second, Michael felt that his whole world had changed. Before him he saw the most beautiful honey-colored eyes he had ever seen. There could be no doubt in his mind, that he was looking at the Ice Queen, the lady he had been dreaming of since the ball.

  Michael felt an absurd urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss her beautiful, bow-shaped mouth. Blood was coursing through his veins and he could feel every beat of his heart as if it were a drum inside his chest. His skin felt alive in a way that it never had before.

  Distracted by the intensity of the sensations in his body, Michael had, apparently, abandoned all common sense. Thankfully, before he could act on his absurd impulse, the Ice Queen had retreated to her corner. Michael realized that he could not say or do anything right now, but he could not help but notice that the maid was looking at him rather intensely. Does she feel the same way that I do?

  Michael knew that he ought not to glance at the maid in the corner as his bid farewell to Lady Paulina. Still, he could not stop his eyes from flitting in her direction once or twice a minute. He needed to leave—immediately.

  Michael understood now, why the Ice Queen had disappeared so suddenly after their walk in the garden. He understood, too, why she had seemed familiar, but did not seem to be a member of any of the aristocratic families that he knew. This information changed everything, but he could not be sure exactly how, and needed time to consider.

  * * *

  Betsey’s head had been spinning from the moment that the Viscount of Somerwich arrived at Cublertone Manor. When she had made her plan to dance with him at the masquerade ball, Betsey had not considered what would happen when she saw him again.

  In the moonlit garden, it had felt as though nothing mattered but that moment, but now, by the light of day, Betsey saw what a fool she had been. Of course I was going to see him again! Of course a mask over my eyes, and white makeup on my face, was not enough to prevent him from recognizing me.

  She ought to have stayed in the corner, hiding her face, for the entirety of the Viscount’s visit, and she had planned to do just that. When he had spilled the tea, the instinct to clean it up had been so strong that she followed it without even thinking.

  She had no other choice, of course. A maid could hardly remain hidden in a corner while tea soaked into the rug, surrounded by shards of broken china.
Betsey knew now that it had been inevitable. If the Viscount had not recognized her today, he would have done so tomorrow, or next week.

  Betsey would be the chaperone for many more visits between Lady Paulina and the Viscount of Somerwich. Eventually, they would be married, and Betsey might continue in her mistress’s employ, living in the Viscount’s household. She could not possibly have hoped to hide her identity forever.

  Chapter 19

  For the past two days, Michael had assumed that if he could find the identity of the Ice Queen, everything would become clear to him. In fact, now that he knew who she was, he was more confused than he had ever been.

  He spent the carriage ride back to Hillfield staring out of the window and thinking about what he had just discovered. He knew now who the Ice Queen had been, and having looked once again into her eyes, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be with her.

  Michael thought about when he might see Lady Paulina’s pretty maid again, and suddenly he realized that he did not even know her name. Michael could not help but laugh at the revelation, and said a silent prayer of thanks that no one else was present to see him, the driver being separated from him by the front wall of the compartment in which he sat.

  The only way to see the Ice Queen again would be to call upon Lady Paulina, and Michael knew that this would lead all parties involved to believe that he wished to marry her. Then, of course, there was the matter of his family’s wishes.

  Michael had hoped that if he could find the Ice Queen, he might convince his father that she was an even better match than Lady Paulina. This would have been unlikely, unless she had turned out to be the daughter of the Regent, but now that he knew she was a lady’s maid, it would be completely impossible.

  Would Father disown me if I were to follow my heart in this matter? Michael thought about this for some time, but found no clear answer. He was his father’s only living son and heir. If he were to be disowned, Cublertone would pass to a distant cousin, effectively ruining his branch of the family’s legacy.

  Michael thought that any reasonable gentleman would not disown his son in such circumstances—it would be rather like cutting off one’s own nose to spite one’s face. However, he also knew that his father was not a reasonable gentleman, and was prone to do things out of anger without thinking about the implications.

  Michael, striving always to be quite the opposite of his father, thought through every possible consequence of any choice that he made. In fact, it had been suggested to him, by some of his more impulsive friends, that he thought too much, and did too little.

  As members of the ton, Michael’s friends rarely suffered any real consequences for their impulsivity, but Michael had never been able to change his own nature to match theirs. In truth, he did not wish to change his nature, and sometimes feared that some of his friends would grow up to be much like his father. So, Michael knew that he must consider every possible outcome, and weigh each option before making any decisions about what to do next.

  He could marry Lady Paulina, as was expected of him. Doing this would make his parents happy, as well as expanding his eventual inheritance and making him a very powerful gentleman. He liked Lady Paulina well enough, and could imagine them sharing a companionable existence.

  However, he was quite sure that he would never feel the sort of passionate love for Lady Paulina that he felt for the Ice Queen. He must also consider the possibility that Lady Paulina would wish for her maid to remain with her after their wedding. In that case, he would see the woman that he loved every day—a constant reminder of what he would be missing. Could I stand to live that way? Surely it would be torture!

  He could refuse to marry Lady Paulina, and instead hope to marry the Ice Queen. If his father disowned him as a result, he would have to find another way to make his way in the world. There was no chance of an income from his father in this case, he would be disinherited entirely.

  Perhaps, given his good education, he could become a professor at a secondary school. Teaching the children of his former equals would be strange, but perhaps not unpleasant. He and the Ice Queen would spend the rest of their lives together, passionately in love. Perhaps.

  Michael felt entirely confident in his love for the Ice Queen, even though they had only spoken for a few minutes. Still, if he was to consider all possibilities, he could not overlook this fact—what if his passion for her had been more lust than love? Am I placing too much value on her beauty and the charm she exhibited in the garden?

  Even if he was not disowned for choosing the Ice Queen, there was no chance of marrying her without creating a terrible scandal. Michael cared very little for his own reputation, but he did not like to think of bringing shame to his mother. He knew, too, that the Ice Queen would suffer more from the scandal than he would, and Lady Paulina likely would as well.

  Michael thought that he could survive scandal, and even the loss of his inheritance, as long as his passion for the Ice Queen remained true, and as long as she returned his feelings. He would spend the rest of his life working to make sure that she was happy in spite of any gossip that might follow her.

  He felt a pang of guilt for the difficulties that he would cause for Lady Paulina, but he was confident that she would make a good marriage in spite of any scandal that might come of this. Perhaps she would even be happier married to someone else—she does not seem particularly passionate about me, at any rate.

  By the time he arrived back at Hillfield Manor, Michael was certain of only one thing. He must see the pretty maid once again, and he must find a way to speak with her privately. The latter part of this plan would be difficult to arrange, but he would need to find a way.

  Michael could not make a decision about what to do next until he knew if the spark he had felt for the Ice Queen would still be present by the light of day. He must speak with her, and find out if she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. These, he felt, were the two conditions necessary for risking his entire future.

  Upon arriving at home, Michael went immediately to the library. He hoped to distract himself from the thoughts that had been rushing through his mind during the carriage ride. No decision could be made until he was able to speak to the Ice Queen. Michael told himself that there could be no benefit in continuing to think about this situation until he had more information.

  While his rational mind understood that thinking of the Ice Queen would do no good, his imagination refused to be contained. Michael tried to distract himself with a variety of books, with a game of chess played against himself, and with writing a letter to a former professor.

  No matter what he did, thoughts of the Ice Queen interrupted, pushing aside all else. When he was not considering the logistical hurdles to being with her, Michael was remembering their stolen moments in the garden at the masquerade ball.

  He relived their kiss more times than he could count, sometimes imagining more—the moan that had escaped her lips as they kissed stretching out longer and longer as he ran his lips down her throat and over her collarbone to the tops of her breasts.

  In the starlight, covered in some sort of shimmering makeup, the Ice Queen had been a vision of beauty, like something not of this world. Yet, Michael thought that she was even more enchanting in the midday light of the drawing room, wearing a simple gray dress without ornaments of any kind.

  This went on for nearly two hours before Michael was obliged to join his parents in the dining room for the evening meal. He dreaded the thought of answering their questions about his visit with Lady Paulina earlier that day, but knew that he could not possibly avoid them.

  “Good evening, Michael,” his mother said, when he entered the dining room. “How are you this evening?”

  “I am quite well, Mother, thank you for asking. How are you?”

  “Very well, thank you.”

  “Father,” Michael said, knowing that it would do no good to ignore the Earl. “How are you this evening?”

  Michael’s father l
ooked at him with a scowl. He had never been a handsome gentleman, but Michael thought that he looked rather worse than usual—his face pallid and almost gray. I suppose he is just in an especially foul mood today.

  “Fine,” the Earl said, his tone harsh. “I am perfectly fine. Now, if you and your mother are satisfied that all members of the family are quite well, perhaps we could discuss some matters of actual import?”

  Michael knew from long years of experience that no answer to this would satisfy his father, so he merely looked inquiringly at the Earl, raising one eyebrow slightly. The Earl scoffed at his son, looking more irritated with each passing second.

  “Of course, My Lord!” the Countess said after a few seconds of tense silence. “Please do tell us what you would like to discuss!” Her voice sounded bright and cheerful, but something in her tone rang false, and Michael knew that this would only serve to make his father angrier.