The Earl She Despised (London Season Matchmaker 3) - Page 33

Lady Reid hesitated, then smiled up at him, her eyelashes fluttering and her head tilted coyly to one side – but Thomas was not taken in.

“I will not be played with,” he told her, remembering how Miss Wells had said almost the very same, although she had spoken of him. “The truth, Lady Reid.”

Lady Reid sighed heavily and shook her head. “It is nothing,” she told him, with a small shrug. “It is only that my fortune has, of late, become a little less, and therefore–”

“You have spent too much and therefore require a rich husband,” Thomas spat, seeing how he was reduced in her eyes to nothing more than cold, hard coins. “And the very best title you can manage.”

Lifting one shoulder, Lady Reid let out a small laugh as if he were taking matters much too seriously. “But, Lord Weston, you must surely admit that we would do very well together,” she told him, clearly having thought this all out before now. “We could both continue on as we pleased, even though we would be wed.”

The realization of what she was suggesting had Thomas’s stomach turning over.

“And, of course, I would be yours whenever you wished it,” she finished, making it appear that this was the most wonderful suggestion he had ever heard. “There seemed no reason to delay since Miss Wells was clearly besotted with you, so therefore, I thought it best for her to know the truth.”

Shaking his head, Thomas let out a long slow breath and tried to contain his furious anger. He wanted to grasp Lady Reid and shake her until she understood just how much he despised her, but the truth of the matter was that he also had to admit that he despised himself for the man he had been. Had the wager over Miss Wells not come to fruition, then most likely he would have found the idea to be fairly pleasant. It would have meant that he could have fulfilled his father’s desire for him to marry whilst maintaining his current practice of seeking the company and the adoration of any other lady he chose. But now, to have such a thing offered to him, made his stomach twist horribly. He did not even want to think of marrying Lady Reid, not when she was as cruel and as disgraceful as he realized.

“I think, Lady Reid, that our time together has come to an end,” he told her, struggling to keep his anger contained. He had promised Lord Henderson he would not make a scene, would not draw the attention of those about them, but what Lady Reid had just revealed was making that exceedingly difficult. “I shall never, never, be willing to do as you ask.”

Lady Reid’s eyes widened in surprise, and she was looking at him as though he had quite lost his senses.

“I do not care for you,” he continued darkly, his eyes narrowing. “I have never cared for you. When you first came to me, it was my arrogance and my pride that were flattered. Had it not been for Miss Wells, then I would have, most likely, accepted your offer but now…” He shook his head fervently, his jaw set. “No, Lady Reid. I do not even wish to remain acquainted with you.”

Much to his surprise, Lady Reid laughed, although the sound was no longer playful, but hard and grating.

“You foolish boy,” she said, shaking her head as though he were a wayward child. “You have lost your senses! Miss Wells means nothing to you and–”

“Miss Wells means everything to me!” he exclaimed, taking a step closer to Lady Reid and seeing her face pale slightly. “I have lost her because of my own foolishness and selfish pride, but that does not mean that my heart does not still belong to her.”

Lady Reid snorted and looked away. “You are not the sort of gentleman to declare yourself in love.”

“And yet, I am,” he told her firmly. “I love Miss Wells with everything that is within me. I cannot pretend that I have not done wrong, for the guilt of it shames me every moment I think of her. I have treated her ill, and yet, in doing so, I discovered that my heart is capable of caring for another. I have held her close and felt myself lift to the skies, such was the joy that enfolded us. Mark me, Lady Reid, I shall never draw near to you, not even if I am never to have Miss Wells’ affection return to me. She is the only one within my heart, and I shall keep her there until my very last breath.”

Lady Reid lifted her chin and looked Thomas straight in the eye. She was quivering with suppressed emotion, her eyes bright and a defiant air about her, but Thomas knew that she was both shocked and horrified that her plans had come to naught.

“Ridiculous man,” she muttered, turning her head away. “I can see that I have wasted a good deal of energy and the like upon you. I should have chosen my conquest more carefully.”

Thomas said nothing, watching carefully as Lady Reid walked away from him and feeling his heart lift free from the pain and regret that held it so tightly. He had, at least, removed Lady Reid from his life, and even though more gossip and rumors would begin to circulate around them both, he knew that it was for the best. He wanted to be free of his past tethers and vices, and that included the company of Lady Reid – whether she liked it or not.

Sighing heavily, Thomas rubbed at his forehead, squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to think of what he might do next. He had no desire to remain at the ball, but to sit at home and be surrounded by his sorrows held no delight either. He could go to Whites’, but that would only remind him of his foolishness with the wager and Lord Wiltshire.

Mayhap it was time to return home to his father’s estate. His sister would be glad to see him, and, most likely, Lord Henderson would accompany him also. Mayhap there would be a wedding this Season after all, even though it would not be for Thomas and Miss Wells.

A small groan of regret brushed from his lips, as he dropped his hand and opened his eyes. It was only then that he saw a small, pale-faced figure standing just behind where Lady Reid had been. A figure who must have overheard most of their conversation, he realized, his heart quickening frantically as he saw the figure step closer.

“Lord Weston.”

His heart began to pound with a furious hope as the figure moved closer still, bringing Miss Wells clearly into view. His mouth was clogged with sand, his lungs burning as he tried to catch his breath.

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“I heard everything,” she said hoarsely, as a single tear coursed down her cheek. “Tell me you meant those words, Lord Weston. Tell me the truth, I pray you.”

Taking a small step closer, he looked into her beautiful face and found himself wanting to weep with the sheer relief of being able to speak to her again.

“I meant every word, Miss Wells,” he told her, not quite certain what to do thereafter. “Pray, do not turn from me now. Allow me to speak to you of my heart, even if you do not have the words to say anything back to me. I must allow you to know the truth.”

A glimmer of a smile came to her face. “So that you might assuage some of your own guilt, Lord Weston?” she asked, repeating something she had said to him soon after they had first become acquainted.

He shook his head. “So that your heart might heal somewhat,” he promised. “So that you might know the depths of my regret.”

Tags: Lucy Adams London Season Matchmaker Historical
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